


Dancing Around It

by LiquidCaliban



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Break Up, Dancing, F/M, Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidCaliban/pseuds/LiquidCaliban
Summary: Sharon Carter thinks things are going well in her relationship with Steve until he lets something spill during a dance lesson for the upcoming Wakandan Royal Ball and ends up shipping Romanogers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Always Marvel's, even if I remove them from the packaging to play with them.
> 
> Spoilers: MCU through CA:CW, with post-CW setting. 
> 
> Pairing: Begins with Steve/Sharon, who immediately break up because Romanogers is an unstoppable force.
> 
> Summary: I like writing to wreck up Staron without her being a harpy or him being a cheater. But they still have to break up because it's my fic with my OTP. 3 or 4 parts.

Sharon felt like she was walking on air as she left her final dress fitting. The Royal Wakandan Ball was five days away and she couldn’t wait to see Steve’s face when he saw her in the dark blue gown she’d picked out. Checking her watch, she realized she could still make the impromptu dance class Agent Romanoff had agreed to hold after several of the guys had admitted they weren’t looking forward to the prospect at the ball. She turned down the next corridor and made her way to the small gym on the third floor of the palace.

Life in Wakanda was working out pretty well so far. It had been almost three months since the Sokovia Accords debacle and she was settling in nicely to the intelligence analyst position King T’Challa offered her in the aftermath before the CIA could press charges for her role in recovering Steve and Sam’s gear from lockup. The arrangements for the African and Middle Eastern royalty attending the coming ball had given her plenty to do since her move. Following some initial coolness, she had earned the respect of her coworkers and even made a few friends outside the group of super political refugees the country had granted asylum.

The adjustment had been much easier with Steve at her side. He was sweet, funny, and generous with his time. He was also a great kisser. It would have been perfect if they were sleeping together, but he was old fashioned and not ready to take that step. She could wait for a guy as great as him, even if she was a little physically frustrated. She was sure they’d get there in the end, maybe after he saw her all decked out for the ball. She had the feeling he was building up to something, even more so since he’d been the first one to jump at Romanoff’s offer of dance instruction.

She arrived to soft classical music filling the room, overlaid by Romanoff’s curt instructions. Sharon smiled as she watched Steve, Sam and Clint, so confident when fighting, staring at the floor as they tried to watch their feet move. She made her way to a stack of mats that had been cleared for the dancing and took a seat. Beside her, Scott paused from making faces for baby Nathaniel’s amusement. “Hey, Spook. I’d offer to partner you, but this guy needs to learn how to make a raspberry whenever someone tells him how cute he is.”

“I should probably stretch first. This looks intense.” Clint and Laura were just sort of swaying in a small circle near the corner; Wanda and Steve tried to do what Romanoff told them as she simultaneously steered Sam around while pretending to let him lead and complimented Lila’s ballet moves. “Has it been going well?”

“Nat showed up with a big stick that Steve confiscated before we could find out what it was for and it’s been kind of touch and go since. Lila’s pirouettes are looking good, though.” Scott tickled Nathaniel’s neck, causing him to shriek with laughter. “Too bad her parents aren’t letting her go to the ball. Or maybe not, because she’d show us all up.”

“She does…”

Romanoff’s voice cut through their conversation as she said sharply, “Sam, if you look down the whole time your partner will assume you’re only interested in her breasts.”

“What? No!” His head shot up with a slightly guilty look. “Feet, I swear. I was looking at my feet and nothing else.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a severe look before stepping away from him. “Speaking of feet…Steve, switch with Sam and give Wanda a break. She’s starting to limp.”

Sharon stood up. “Can I jump in?”

“Sure,” Romanoff replied. “Maybe Steve will be more careful of your feet than ours.”

Over an hour later, Sharon was back in her place on the mats, rubbing her sore feet. Wanda was doing the same beside her. Laura and Clint had quit nearly thirty minutes before to put Nathanial down for his nap and escort Lila to her horseback riding lesson with Cooper, respectively. Both Sam and Scott had shown improvement before sitting down as well, but Romanoff was still trying to teach Steve to move less rigidly.

 Sharon winced in sympathy as he stepped on Romanoff’s foot for the umpteenth time. “Hey!”

“Sorry!” He caught himself just before putting his weight on her other foot. “Damn it. Sorry.”

“I won’t mention your language if you put in a little effort.”

His arms dropped to his sides as he almost whined, “I’m _trying_!”

“You’re obviously not because if you were actually trying you’d have gotten this already.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t told me to think about it as fighting…”

“Nah, you’re good at fighting,” Sam interrupted from his spot on the floor.

Romanoff ignored him, standing with her hands on her hips as she stared Steve down. “I told you to try moving with the same grace you do when you’re fighting. Look, this was your idea because you didn’t want to look like an idiot at the ball, but if you don’t want my help…”

“Nat, please. I want your help.” He held up his hands so she could step back into position. “I appreciate that you’re doing this. Could we start again?”

She shook her head. “Me yelling at you hasn’t helped so far. We need to do this different.”

Sharon gasped as Romanoff’s fist suddenly arced toward Steve’s face, even though he caught it easily. “You’re going to try to beat it into me?”

“I’m trying to get you into a fighting mindset. When I move, you react. Got it?” They spent a few minutes going through a non-contact sparring session before she stopped him. “Good. Now go on the offensive.”

He was smiling not long after as she parried his strikes. “So I can do this with you at the ball?”

“Not exactly.” She moved closer, placing his hand on her hip. “Fight me up close now.”

“Um…”

“You’re on the offensive. I’ll follow your lead.”

“Nat, I don’t know about this.” He tried to take a step back and she moved with him, mirroring his steps. When he stopped trying to escape and started moving toward her, she stepped back. “I can’t…”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. Don’t think.”

Sharon tried to focus on the fact that Steve was looking better by the moment as he danced with Romanoff rather than the way his fingers were laced between hers or the way he squeezed her hip every time she stepped backwards.

When he seemed to be dancing with more confidence, Romanoff said, “Now stop looking at me like we’re sparring. Dancing is a form of public intimacy. It’s just you and your partner, moving together. The room is full of people but you two are the only ones who matter. Maintain eye contact without staring. Talk. _Listen_. Pay attention only to her.”

“To you?”

“To whoever you’re dancing with. Intensity is key.”

“Intensity. Right.” He was staring into her eyes when he suddenly grew braver, moving closer, twirling her, dipping her like he’d been doing this his entire life. He looked beautiful as the lesson finally clicked. Sharon tried to convince herself that it was totally related to his newfound skill. As the music swelled, Steve dipped Romanoff again, her body curving until her hair nearly brushed the floor. Their faces were very close when she returned to an upright posture. They stayed in that position even as the music began again. He suddenly said, “I love you.”

Sharon’s heart stopped as he closed the distance and kissed Romanoff. It was unfair how good they looked together – like something dreamed up by central casting’s wildest fantasies. From the corner of her eye she could see Scott slapping Sam’s knee, like Sam wasn’t watching already. Wanda was snapping a damned picture. The moment stretched on and Sharon could only watch.

Romanoff pulled back first. “Okay, not that intense.”

“Nat, I…”

“I need to be somewhere.” She practically ran from the room.

The rest of the group remained frozen. Sharon wondered if she’d be out of line for slapping Steve. He suddenly stumbled back and she realized she had actually gotten up and hit him. He seemed shocked only for a moment. She heard a scramble behind her as Sam, Scott and Wanda fled the scene.

Steve gingerly touched his cheek, keeping his eyes down. “Sharon, I…”

“So, you’re in love with Romanoff?” She tried to be tough, but even she heard the crack in her own voice.

“That…yes.”

“And you were going to keep leading me on for how long, exactly?”

“I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…” He sputtered ineffectually for a few moments before continuing, “I wasn’t sure how to tell you. Or Natasha. I wasn’t trying to hurt you but I just kept putting it off and I…I’m so sorry.”

“Is this why you didn’t want to sleep with me?”

“Well, not just that…”

“I believed you when you said you wanted to wait! I thought it was sweet that you thought sex was so special but it turns out it’s because you’re really in love with _her_.”

“Please, Sharon, it isn’t like that.”

She threw up her hands. “Oh, well, by all means. Please explain how it is.”

“I…I was never trying to lie to you and I had the best intentions. I swear.” He started to pace back and forth across the room. “I always thought I had time to tell Natasha someday, but then everything happened with the Accords and I figured I’d missed my last chance. Then you were there. It was, like, fate. What you said at Peggy’s funeral really hit me and then you helped us even though you had every reason not to and I thought it meant…

“I thought when I got involved with you I would move on. I like you, Sharon, and I’ve really enjoyed our time together, but…” He trailed off. “I never wanted it to end this way. I didn’t know how to do this without hurting you.”

“You still don’t.” She raised her hand to slap him again but stayed her hand. “In fact, you may have found the most hurtful way possible to break up with me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Go to hell.” She didn’t feel bad as she walked away. Or she didn’t feel bad for him, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

The team dynamics were extremely awkward in the following days leading up to the ball. Sharon had assumed (and kind of hoped) that Steve would avoid her, but she hadn’t counted on the reactions from everyone else, ranging from Sam’s explanation that his friend was a moron to Wanda’s offer to commiserate over cheesy romantic comedies and chocolate ice cream to Cooper Barton shyly asking if he could have the first dance with her at the ball (he explained he had special permission from King T’Challa to come for the first hour and have one glass of champagne if his parents said it was okay). She had accepted all the sympathy sent her way, which was why she found herself three glasses of red wine deep the night before the ball, jamming a spoon into a pint of double-fudge brownie ice cream while _Notting Hill_ played on the television; all the vetting for the ball had been completed before guests would begin arriving early tomorrow, so she had the following day to sleep off any excess she committed tonight.

She felt like she’d earned a night of drunkenness after Steve’s betrayal.

Beside her on the couch in the central living space of what most palace dwellers and workers were calling ‘Avengers’ Wing,’ Wanda was digging through her own pint of ice cream. “Did I ever apologize for taking a picture of Steve and Natasha when they…” She crammed a huge spoonful of minty-green goo into her mouth before she could complete the sentence. After swallowing, she said, “I don’t even know if you noticed, but I feel like I should explain that I wasn’t Instagramming it or something like that. I just thought it would be faster to send Clint a picture than explaining why he needed to come immediately.”

“I totally forgot about that.” She took a sip of wine, wishing she was referring to the entire incident rather that the fact that there was a digital record of it. “But don’t worry about it. They can put it on their wedding invitations or something. Hell, sell it to TMZ if you can. I’m sure you’ll be able to name your own price once word gets out that Captain America is in love with Black Widow.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Natasha isn’t speaking to Steve. She’s really pissed.” Sharon made a sound of surprise, but focused on refilling her wineglass. She didn’t want to think about how Romanoff felt in all this – the other woman didn’t get sympathy, even if she didn’t actually do anything. Wanda distracted Sharon as she went on, “Yeah, it turns out she was the one who told Steve he should ask you out back when you all worked for SHIELD. She thought you two were good together.”

“Really? She told you that?”

Wanda nodded. “I mean, I don’t know if she told me because she knew I’d say something to you, but I heard something similar from Clint.”

“Sounds like my husband, who can’t keep his mouth shut about non-classified information to save his life,” Laura said, unexpectedly plopping down on the sofa beside Wanda. “I don’t mean to interrupt but Nathaniel’s cutting a bunch of new teeth and I saw there was wine.”

“Get comfortable with us and Julia. We have _Runaway Bride_ , _Pretty Woman_ and _Mystic Pizza_ in the queue.” Wanda reached for a new bottle and corkscrew to pass down. “Merlot or cabernet?”

“Whatever. I haven’t eaten or drunk a thing I didn’t like since we got here. Those little stuffed pastry puffs they always serve may be my new favorite food!”

Sharon nodded, though she didn’t agree. She also didn’t believe that Laura had just happened to be walking by; the Barton family wasn’t living in the wing of the palace with the rest of the group, but in a guest house on the grounds to help them maintain some sense of normalcy. She didn’t mind that Wanda had probably invited Laura, either. Wanda laughed.  “We’re probably getting spoiled by this lifestyle. I randomly said something in the hall about not finding my regular shampoo here and the next day a case of Oribe products was at my door. I wasn’t even complaining!”

“They’re so good. I asked where I could find a stuffed animal for Nathaniel and someone tracked down the exact dog he has at home.”

“How long do you think it will last?” Sharon mused.

“The royal treatment?”

Sharon rolled her eyes at Wanda. “Romanoff not talking to Steve. I mean, she’s into him, isn’t she?” Both Wanda and Laura took long sips of wine. She huffed in annoyance. “Oh, come on. I was there so I saw that kiss wasn’t completely one-sided.” She wasn’t sure that was true, since in her memory she pictured a range from what she thought was realistic to a full-on make out session complete with roaming hands, depending on how sad or angry she was at any given moment. “You can’t leave me hanging after what happened! What, does she think she’s too good for him or something?”

Laura frowned. “Sharon, I like you, don’t get me wrong, but…I don’t talk about family.”

“Well, I’ve been drinking,” Wanda said with an exaggerated wink, “so I have no problem telling you she’s _totally_ into Steve even though she acts like she’s not. Sometimes I think she even believes it when she says she isn’t.”

“Why does everyone always assume I’m lying?” The room spun slightly as Sharon turned toward the door, but Romanoff was already in the kitchen, taking a vodka bottle from the freezer. She opened it and took a long pull before facing the living room. “I didn’t mean to ruin movie night. I’ll just…”

“Where did you even come from?” Wanda asked. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“I just came from the gym, hence the spandex and sweat.”

“And you’re rehydrating with vodka?” Laura asked.

“I know you said family, but you’re definitely not my mother.” Romanoff raised her bottle to her lips again. “Can I have a moment with Sharon?”

Before Sharon could protest, Laura was ushering Wanda out of the room. Romanoff perched on the chair to her right. The thought that Laura’s presence had been awfully convenient flashed through Sharon’s slightly wine-addled brain. “If you’re planning to apologize…”

“For what? Not giving Steve enough credit to be deceptive?”

“You’re saying you really didn’t know?”

“I had no idea. I probably should have. So I guess I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Sharon couldn’t help questioning the motive behind the apology. Was it ‘Sorry your boyfriend was always in love with me and hurt you because of it,’ or ‘Sorry about what happened even though I’m now going to hook up with the guy who just broke your heart’? She split the difference and drained her wineglass. “Then you are planning to fuck him?”

“Haven’t decided.” Romanoff took another gulp of vodka as Sharon poured herself a refill. “I just wanted to make sure that you know I had nothing to do with his shitty behavior. He should have manned up and talked to you.”

“That…yeah.” Sharon barely tasted the wine as she swallowed the glassful in one gulp. She was definitely uncomfortable with the twist of Romanoff being on her side. “He should have.”

“I’d make excuses about how he doesn’t know how to be in a relationship if I didn’t think he’d been such a dick about it. He doesn’t deserve to be defended on this. No idea why you haven’t tracked him down and chopped off his balls.”

Sharon blinked, then blinked again. “I…that’s not something normal people do.”

“Whatever. I wouldn’t blame you.” Romanoff shrugged. “At this point I’m more annoyed you’re stealing my first dance partner tomorrow night.”

“What?” Her brain took a moment to catch up and she wasn’t able to stop herself from snorting a laugh as she did. “You mean Cooper?”

“Yeah. Why dance with his aunt when he’s got a hot blonde?”

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to prom together.” Sharon found herself liking Romanoff just a little, against her meaner, alcohol-fueled instincts. “I’m sure you’ll have guys lining up to dance with you. Wait, why am I trying to cheer _you_ up?”

“You’re a good person. I hope things don’t have to be weird between us just because Steve’s being an ass. Not that we were friends before but…”

“It’s fine. Well, it’s not, but…that’s on him. God, why did I think it was going to work with him? He’s a superhero and I’m…not.”

“Me neither, although I’ll deny I said that if it comes up.” Romanoff shrugged and clinked her bottle against Sharon’s glass before taking another drink. “Life sucks a lot of the time.”

“Are you going to tell me to look for the silver linings or something?”

“Don’t get your clichés in my statements of fact.” She sighed. “It would be easier to take if Steve wasn’t so damn trustworthy. I will say that any time I’ve ever seen him fuck up, he’s done it with the best intentions. Look, you don’t have to tell me anything, but did he explain what he was thinking? At all?”

“Not well.” Sharon tweaked her thumbnail against the rim of her glass a few times, producing a sharp ringing tone, before asking the question she really wanted to know the answer to, “Do you love him?”

Romanoff kept her eyes on the floor as she stood. “I need a shower. Get some sleep. The best revenge is looking amazing.”

Sharon smiled weakly and nodded. She hadn’t really been expecting an answer. Romanoff stumbled slightly as she walked toward the hall, toting her vodka bottle. Sharon thought about pouring herself another glass of wine but decided against it. She was better than this. She didn’t need to drown her sorrows. If Steve had a thing for another women, she didn’t need his sorry ass, no matter how ridiculously hot it was. She stood on wobbly legs and headed to bed, leaving her wine on the table by the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks to everyone for reading! There's at least one more chapter, so we'll see how it goes.

“I’ll be right back!” Sharon said to Wanda, who waved in acknowledgement. She gathered her skirt up as she stepped out of the ballroom into one of the many wide palace hallways. She had been dancing nonstop for what felt like hours and needed a quick break, even if she didn’t really need the ladies’ room. As much fun as she was having, a few minutes off her feet would do her a world of good. She had drunk several flutes of champagne and felt a pleasantly light sensation in her head, adding to the high she had been experiencing since denying Steve a dance with what she felt was acceptable discourtesy. The night had been a success since then – she’d been particularly charmed by the Senegalese ambassador with his dry wit and high cheekbones.

She passed several elegantly dressed men and women with smiles and nods. Slipping through what she thought was the correct door, she found herself in a preparation room, tables filled with unopened champagne bottles and clean glasses lined up on gleaming silver trays. They clinked musically with the stomp of a foot against the floor. “…can’t just drag me out of a room full of people without…”

“I didn’t have a choice! I haven’t seen you in days and you won’t talk to me!”

“Because you just threw your whole life away for no reason!”

Sharon tucked herself into an alcove just inside the door once she realized Romanoff was arguing with Steve, all thoughts of getting off her feet gone. From her concealed spot, she could just see them by one of the tall windows, him looking every bit the superhero even in his tuxedo and her in a silvery dress with a slit up the side and a dipping back that just exposed what looked like an old bullet wound on her left shoulder.

Steve’s hand covered the scar as he pulled her into his arms. “I made a huge mistake by never telling you I love you and I tried to fix it with another mistake and hurt Sharon in the process. I don’t know how to make that better, but I know it’s not by pretending I don’t love you.”

“Stop _saying_ that!” Romanoff pulled away from him, taking a few steps toward Sharon’s position.

“Why? I love you, Natasha. Nothing can change that. I love you.”

She crossed her arms tightly and refused to look at him. “Then get over it.”

“No. You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

“Steve…”

“I’m done acting like you’re not the person I think about all the time and I’m done…” He grasped her shoulders and spun her to face him. “I love you, Nat. Is that really so bad?”

“Yes, that’s terrible for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel the same.” Sharon held her breath as Romanoff’s gaze drifted over her, landing on anything in the room but Steve, but judged the lack of reaction as either acceptance of her presence or, weirder, failure to even notice she was in the room. “I don’t love you, Steve.”

He laughed. “Even I can tell you’re lying.”

“Fine, I do love you, but it’s the way I love Clint. We’re friends. That’s it.”

“We could have more. I want us to be more.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m telling you there isn’t.”

“That’s not a very good reason.”

“Please tell me you don’t mean the fact that I don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with you isn’t a good enough reason for you to leave me alone. Why would you even want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you?”

“I didn’t…you…I’m not trying to force myself on you. And I wouldn’t be pushing if I thought you were being honest.”

“Just accept that no means no, Steve. Don’t make me stab you.”

“I’d heal.” He laughed again, which struck Sharon as slightly unhinged. The irony of the situation was not lost on her, even if she kind of agreed that Romanoff was lying about how she felt.  “Just be honest with me. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Like you were honest with Sharon?”

“Is this about her? Are you worried that the same thing will happen?” She didn’t swat away his hands as he tilted her face up to him. “Because it won’t. Don’t you know why I never agreed to go out with any of the women you suggested? Don’t you realize that it’s only ever been you?”

As Sharon leaned forward to hear Romanoff’s reply, her foot slid in a wet spot on the floor. She caught herself before falling and knocking over a table filled with glasses but there was no hope of escaping the situation. “I was looking for the bathroom,” she offered lamely.

Steve stared at her with his mouth agape. “Sharon…”

“I’m not talking to you.” She decided to take the opportunity that presented itself and pushed past Steve to stand in front of Romanoff.  “Are you seriously telling him you don’t love him to punish him or something?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Exactly how long did it take you to figure out this isn’t the bathroom?”

Sharon wondered if she was having an out of body experience as she heard herself say, “Look, he’s been a jerk, but I won’t hold it against you if you want him to be _your_ jerk. I appreciate the girl power solidarity, but it’s totally not necessary.”

“What is with you two? Is it really so hard for you to understand that I make choices about my life based on what _I_ want?”

“Romanoff…Natasha,” Sharon corrected; no point in being formal if she was going to meddle in the woman’s personal business, “If we ignore the colossal ass he’s made of himself recently, Steve is great. He’s amazing. You’re really not attracted to him?”

“Of course I am. I’m not comatose. But I value his friendship and I’m not going to sacrifice that because he came up with the world’s dumbest excuse to break up with his girlfriend and ran with it.”

“Wait, you think he’s lying about being in love with you?”

“I think he’s confused and maybe in need of a therapist.”

“I’m standing right here, Nat!”

“Shut up!” Sharon found herself shouting in unison with Natasha.

“Indeed.” King T’Challa stood in the doorway, giving the three of them a rather severe look. “I can offer you a more private room to continue this conversation, but my staff is very eager to return to their work and my guests are beginning to notice the lack of champagne.”

Natasha was the first to gather herself. “Our apologies, King T’Challa. We’ll be going back to the ballroom.” She grabbed Sharon’s elbow and pulled her back toward the hall. Steve was smart enough to leave through the opposite door, making his own apology to the king.

Sharon felt her head spinning as she was dragged along. “Do you really expect anyone to believe you don’t want to date Steve because it would ruin your friendship? Because I feel like knowing he’s been in love with you for years is the first nail in that coffin.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” They ended up in the actual bathroom – more of a lounge in the anteroom, really, with ornate furniture and mirrored vanity tables – where Natasha rounded on her. “What was _that_ about?”

“What?”

“You just tried to convince me I should date Steve. In front of Steve!”

“Well…” Sharon trailed off, not sure how to articulate what she was thinking. In spite of how angry and hurt she still was that Steve had used her…no, there was no in spite of. She had no explanation why she’d just tried to convince Natasha she should be with him. “I don’t know why. You two together just fit or something. You stand beside him and fill in a space that wasn’t there before you were with him. It’s like you complete each other even though neither of you was incomplete. I don’t know.”

She really didn’t have an explanation beyond the word salad she’d just tossed out. She was mad at Steve and seriously hurt by what he’d done, but he was still Steve. He’d made a huge mistake, but the longer she thought about it, the less she doubted the motives he’d claimed. Steve loved Natasha. If she loved him, there was no reason they shouldn’t be together. As the silence stretched, Sharon did feel the need to add, “I sort of hate you for that.”

“You’ve got an overactive imagination.” Natasha was facing one of the vanity tables, leaning over it as she gripped the edge. Sharon could just make out the scar she’d noticed earlier on her back. “I can’t get involved with him. Not like that.”

“Why not?”

Natasha turned with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be getting back before someone misses you? That diplomat with the gorgeous dark eyes, maybe?”

Sharon wasn’t ready to end the conversation yet, but knew when she was being dismissed. Cheikh Diop, the Senegalese Ambassador she’d met earlier, was waiting for her just inside the ballroom when she reentered it. “Ah, Miss Carter. I was afraid you had run to meet your carriage before it returned to pumpkin form.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it when you’d already promised me another dance.” She accepted the champagne flute he offered her with his bright smile. Although she enjoyed the rest of the ball, she couldn’t help but notice that Natasha never reappeared, much to Steve’s consternation.


	4. Chapter 4

Sharon watched the soccer game from the royal box, not really paying attention to Cheikh’s running commentary about Senegal’s World Cup chances. She’d always enjoyed playing the game at the Y or club-level when she was younger, but she’d never really gotten caught up in the sport at the international level. She preferred Wizards basketball, not that she would mention it in this crowd. For some reason, fans kept passing the ball back when it landed in the stands, as it did to the Wakandan crowd’s groans a moment later.

She asked in a half-whisper, half-shout, “Shouldn’t they get to keep a foul ball?”

“What? No, there was no foul. Just a goal kick.” His eyes never left the field as he watched the ball’s progress. “Mané, you must shoot! Shoot! Yes…agh.”

“Ah, he will never beat Obanyo,” T’Challa declared, applauding the Wakandan keeper’s save. “Mané has great skill but lacks creativity.”

“As if you have an all-Neymar team!” Cheikh shot back good-naturedly.

Sharon smiled as she excused herself. The masculine energy in the room was almost palpable as cheers rumbled through the stadium. She plunged past the area reserved for premium ticket holders and descended the first staircase she found onto a mostly empty concourse. An usher directed her, “Madame, to the left, please.”

“I don’t want…”

“These concessions are closed, please.”

Before she could argue, she was being pulled through a wide entryway into a chanting crowd. Natasha’s nails bit into her wrist slightly. “Just shout something and you’ll be fine.”

Sharon opened her mouth and managed a vague ‘woo’ Moments later, she was bouncing up and down as she made her way through seats filled with Wakandan supporters. Beside her Natasha laughed, “You’d be a terrible vuvuzela.”

“I didn’t realize you guys were here.”

“Yeah, we were invited to the royal box, but trust me, this is more fun.”

Sharon hadn’t seen much of the Avengers in the four days since the ball, having spent most of her free time with Cheikh, but she had assumed they were skipping the game due to disinterest when none of them appeared in the box. The group around her presented a much different picture; the Bartons were wearing Wakandan royal purple jerseys and occupying the seats directly in front of them, with Sam, Wanda and Scott similarly clad to Natasha’s left. Sharon greeted them all and joined in a cheer as the Wakandans earned a corner kick.

“Where’s Steve?”

Natasha ducked down to dig around in a bag at her feet. “Around, I’m sure.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“And you’re not appropriately dressed.” She held up a purple and gold jersey with the number ten on it. “I got you one since I figured Mr. Ambassador would be giving you a color that would get you beat up in this crowd.”

Sharon was touched by the unexpected gesture. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t get all emotional. It’s just a shirt.”

“Yeah, but…” As she pulled it on over her blouse, a reason for the gift sprang to the forefront of her thoughts. “Wait, does this mean you slept with him?

“No, but you get points for paranoia.”

“Are you at least speaking to him?”

“Ooh!” Natasha didn’t answer, but groaned with the fans as a shot curled wide. “I think the keeper would have had that anyway, but still…”

“I’m not going to let it go.”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own love life?”

On cue, her phone beeped in her pocket. She checked the text from Cheikh. _Are you alright?_

She smiled and held up the phone for Natasha to see. “He spells things out. He doesn’t just use the letters.”

“Didn’t you say he went to Oxford? He’s probably allergic to text-speak.”

Sharon sent back a message about bumping into a friend. “Well, I should probably get back to my own seat.”

“Stay a few minutes and have a beer. It’s not like T’Challa’s going to send his Tall Women out to hunt you down.”

“You don’t have to hunt me down,” Steve said replied, appearing next to Sharon in his own purple shirt with a stack of three trays containing cups of beer. “Oh. Hi, Sharon. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I’m sitting somewhere else,” she replied, immediately adding, “but not because of anything but…I was invited.” She lowered her gaze involuntarily as he passed the beer down the row, though she did take a Tusker. “Am I stealing your seat?”

“Nah. I think I’ve been standing the whole game anyway. Didn’t realize how exciting it would be.” His gaze focused on the ball traveling downfield. “How’re you?”

“Good. You?”

“Um, good.” His eyes flicked to Natasha, who was halfway through her first beer and shaking her fist at a call from the referee, before going back to the field. “Good game, huh?”

“Yeah. Like you said, it’s exciting.”

“Something about watching with the crowd really…I remember goin’ to Ebbets Field with Bucky to see the Dodgers.” She had noticed his slight Brooklyn accent always came out a little when he talked about the past. “Baseball on a hot summer day. Nothin’ like it.” He took a sip of beer. “This is fun, too.”

“It’s definitely rowdier down here.”

“You in the royal box?”

“Uh-huh.”

“With Ambassador Diop?”

She almost choked on her beer. “Why?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just…he seems really nice. Smart. We were seated together at the official lunch yesterday and I talked to him.”

“Oh.” She felt better knowing there hadn’t been some kind of back alley confrontation, but she still wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, considering she’d just met Cheikh and just broken up with Steve. Having a calm conversation with him was nice, though. She was surprised to find she was hardly even angry anymore. She decided to ask the question she hadn’t gotten answered earlier, “What’s going on with you and Natasha?”

“Well…” He glanced at Natasha again. “She’s talking to me, so that’s good. Sharon, I…”

“Don’t apologize again. I know you’re sorry.” She gulped from her cup. Even if she wasn’t angry, she was still sad their relationship had ended – and that it hadn’t ever been what she thought it was. She was in mourning for something that had never been; she wondered if this was what he felt when he thought about Aunt Peggy. It wasn’t the same, but… “Life is short, Steve. You should be with the person you want.”

She missed his response in the uproar that accompanied the home team’s first goal. For reasons she didn’t quite understand, she hugged Natasha in the celebration. As the commotion calmed, she excused herself. She had regained her composure, having stopped in a bathroom to splash water on her face, before she reappeared in the royal box.

“Ah, you have returned to us!” Cheikh was pretending to frown, but his eyes remained happy. “Although I cannot say I like your wardrobe change.”

“Hm?” She glanced down and realized she was wearing her new Wakanda jersey. “Oh! My friend Natasha gave it to me. She’s sitting in the stands for the crowd experience or something.”

T’Challa laughed. “I am glad to hear Miss Romanoff decided to attend the match. I’m even more pleased with her taste in shirts.”

“She will look better in green,” Cheikh replied. “Tell your friend I will be happy to get her a Senegal shirt as well.”

As Sharon settled back into the game in the royal box, she wondered when she had started thinking of Natasha Romanoff as her friend. Searching the crowd to her left, she spotted the Avengers. They did stand out a bit. She smiled as she saw Steve’s arm around Natasha’s shoulders, though it may have had more to do with the fact that Cheikh had laced his fingers with hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Avengers’ Wing was dark and quiet as Sharon slipped in, but it _was_ four in the morning. She exhaled as she closed the main door with only the slightest sound. Cheikh had asked her to stay, but she didn’t want to complicate the situation either for his staff or her position in Wakandan intelligence. Plus, the walk of shame was always easier when fewer people were around to witness it. She had taken only two steps before the bright kitchen light came on.

“Hey.” Natasha nonchalantly moved across the space in a tank top and boy shorts. “Are you just getting in?”

“Uh…”

“Because I told you to be home by midnight, young lady.”

Sharon laughed nervously, still not entirely sure how to interpret the coincidence, although she couldn’t really pretend she was just out for a late night walk, considering she was wearing the same dress she’d had on when they’d all been at the Wakandan Royal Theater the previous night. “You haven’t really been waiting up, have you?”

“Relax, it’s not like I’m gonna ground you. This is just a weird accident of timing.” Natasha wiggled the teakettle she’d just taken out. “Want a cup?”

“Sure.” Sharon took a seat on a stool at the wide island and watched her fill the kettle. She seemed to be moving a little gingerly as she set it on the stovetop and took a seat across the counter.  “Why are you up so late?”

“Or early.” Natasha shrugged. “Or maybe I’m always up at 4:15.”

“And maybe neither of us is moving like we’re a little sore.”

Natasha grinned. “I take it the honorable Mr. Diop is now officially the ambassador to both Wakanda and your pants?”

“Only if you spent the night screaming ‘God bless America.’”

“Touché.” She leaned forward on the counter as she crossed her arms. “Worth it?”

“Totally. You?”

“Yeah.” Natasha tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry and not sorry.”

“Why? Because Steve and I were together for three months and zip, but it takes you less than two weeks in a relationship to cure his terminal virginity?” Sharon realized she’d spoken with more venom than she’d intended. “Wow. Guess I’m still kind of bitter.”

“Why shouldn’t you be? Just because you met a great guy right after he screwed up doesn’t mean you can’t still be pissed at Steve. You can even punch me if you want.” Natasha stood somewhat stiffly to go check the bubbling kettle. “Or you can try to punch me, but I’ll probably hurt you in retaliation. Reflex.”

Sharon swallowed hard and told herself that this was how master assassins probably joked around. “That’s not necessary. It’s not your fault he’s a jerk.”

“True. But I still feel like I deserve some responsibility.” She shifted the kettle off the burner as it began to whistle. “When I look back, it’s pretty clear. He brought me flowers once.”

“For no reason?”

“Well, I was in the infirmary because I’d broken some ribs. And my arm, but only the ulna. And I bruised my kidney. And there may have been some internal bleeding.” She poured boiling water into the teapot. Sharon could already smell the aroma of the steeping bergamot. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“And you think it should have been obvious that he was in love with you because he brought you flowers one time when you almost died?”

“That’s not the only thing, but…it should have been obvious to _me_.”

“Not if it’s only obvious when you’re looking back.” Sharon rose from her seat to get two mugs from the cupboard. “Anyone can connect the dots when all the dots are actually visible.”

“That’s pretty good. They teach you that in the CIA? My whole opinion of American institutions is out of whack at the moment.”

“You shouldn’t change all your opinions of the US based on the size of Captain America’s dick.”

Natasha sighed dreamily as she poured the tea. “This would be so much easier if it were just about size. Milk?”

“I’m good.” Sharon tried not to react as she took a sip of the surprisingly strong tea. She’d had an absolutely amazing night with Cheikh, but it was hard not to imagine a corresponding experience with Steve. “Although I feel like I should have a bitchy comeback to that.”

“It’s probably better if we can’t compare notes.” Natasha poked at the lemon slice she had added to her own mug. “You knew Steve was a virgin, right?”

“I suspected, but I never actually asked. I’m pretty sure his last girlfriend was my elderly aunt, after all.”

“Fair enough. It’s kind of surprising considering how he’s so eager, though…”

“Please don’t,” Sharon said with a wince. She was willing to know that it was happening provided she didn’t have to hear details. Her imagination was already on overdrive.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t lie either.”

“I’m not lying, I’m appeasing.” Natasha continued to stir her tea without tasting it. “You’re okay with me and Steve, right?”

“Why? It’s not like you need my approval. Or that you’d break it off if I said I didn’t like it.”

“True, but…you and I wouldn’t be having tea in the middle of the night if Steve hadn’t…if he hadn’t…”

“If he hadn’t fucked himself into unconsciousness?”

 “Look, I’m trying to tell you that I hope we can be friends even though I’m screwing your ex. He acted like an asshole, but he and I…we…” Natasha’s cheeks colored ever so slightly. “I just…with him, it’s…hm…”

“You’re in love with him,” Sharon filled in, amazed by the idea even as she said it. “You spent the night together and now you’re in love.”

“That’s not why.”

“Not why you’re in love with him or not why you’re admitting it?” Given the hard set of Natasha’s mouth, Sharon felt like she was pushing her luck, but she still asked, “Have you been in love with him for just as long as he’s been in love with you?”

“It’s not…”

“It is! And you just realized that you could have been having sex with him for years instead of for the first time!” A flustered Natasha Romanoff seemed like a dangerous thing, so Sharon added, “Make sure you tell him.”

“I suppose not being open about _feelings_ is how we got into this mess in the first place. Damn, I sound like a marshmallow.” She rolled her eyes. “I should’ve just stayed in bed.”

Before Sharon could reply, Steve wandered into the kitchen, shirtless and rubbing his eyes. “Nat? You out here? I could definitely use something…” he trailed off as saw Sharon sitting at the island with Natasha. “Um, hi?”

“Hello. Well, I guess I’ll be heading to bed.” She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a kiss as she left the room, but didn’t turn. She wasn’t ready to see Steve kissing Natasha. Again. At least she could fall asleep thinking about her own wonderful night instead of theirs.


	6. Chapter 6

Sharon tried not to watch like a creepy peeping tom as Steve and Natasha swam in the private pool on the patio outside Avengers’ Wing. She’d just gotten in after another late night – this one work-related, investigating a possible alien signal picked up by a Wakandan satellite. She had glanced out the kitchen window to see why the outside lights were on and skinny dipping Steve had proven too much of a temptation. She told herself it was okay if she just looked. There was nothing wrong with genuine appreciation of…

_Sweet Amazonian anacondas_!

Sharon was unable to avert her eyes as Steve strode toward a cooler on the deck after pushing himself from the water and retrieved two beer bottles, looking over his shoulder to talk to Natasha the whole time. The view wasn’t any less captivating when he turned around. His muscles rippled from his shoulders to his ass to his calves under his shining wet skin as he walked back to the pool. Sharon definitely started to feel guilty about how much she was enjoying this. Much as she liked (loved?) Cheikh, she knew she’d definitely missed something – a _lot_ of something – by not sleeping with Steve as he slipped back into the water and his ridiculous endowment was obscured. She finally blinked.

He treaded over with the beers and embraced Natasha, dipping his head to kiss her neck. Sharon couldn’t help but think he’d never been so forward with _her_. Of course, they’d never gotten close to naked, either. Seeing Steve and Natasha being like this was something of a novelty, as well; Sharon had noticed they rarely engaged in PDAs when she was present, though Wanda had told her they weren’t so discreet around everyone else. Sharon had to appreciate that just a little, that they weren’t shoving their relationship in her face. So why couldn’t she take her eyes off them now? She watched as they wrapped around each other in the pool like octopuses. Octopi? Did it really matter? Steve was caught up in Natasha, just like he’d always wanted.

Sharon poured some Jack Daniels into her glass of Diet Coke and took a sip as Natasha sipped her beer over Steve’s shoulder as he continued to work on her neck. Sharon rationalized that there was no reason for her to be angry. She and Steve weren’t together and now they were both with other people. It was two in the morning, so it wasn’t totally unrealistic for a horny couple to assume no one was awake and take advantage of the empty pool. And Sharon didn’t have to watch them make out or worse in the pool. She could easily go to bed and pretend she’d never glanced out the window. She wasn’t even turned on, just curious. If only Steve hadn’t been _enhanced_ …

God, that was unfair. As if Captain America wasn’t a supernaturally handsome specimen already – he had to be massively well-endowed too? Typical that a male scientist developing a super soldier serum intended to create an ideal man had included the world’s most impressive dick in his formula; Steve could probably conquer armies by sheer intimidation if he whipped _that_ out on the battlefield. Sharon was definitely jealous of Natasha for the moment as she continued to watch from the kitchen window with only a cocktail to warm her instead of a super soldier.

After a few minutes demonstrated they were probably going to be at it for a while, Sharon mixed herself another drink. She had the day off tomorrow, barring any new revelations about the signal. Natasha was smirking as she spoke to Steve. His expression of shock told Sharon that now would be an excellent time to break off her voyeurism. Fortunately, her bedroom window didn’t face the pool, which she would definitely not be swimming in until she was sure it had been cleaned.

She slept late enough the next day that she missed breakfast with the team. She was eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen island when Sam, Wanda and Steve walked in.

Sam declared, “C’mon, man. That was a good move. I could’ve taken her down if I wasn’t a gentleman and I ambushed her.”

“Of course you could have,” Wanda consoled. “It was very gentlemanly of you to let her toss you across the gym when you snuck up on her instead. I’m surprised Steve didn’t take you down before you got that close.”

Steve brushed off the suggestion. “Nat can take care of herself, especially if she only has to worry about you, Sam.”

There was a pause before Sam grinned. “Yeah, not like she needs help to kick my ass. At least I get the afternoon off, right?”

“I don’t know. You seem to need the practice.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Steve slapped Sam on the back.

“Boys.” Wanda rolled her eyes as she sat down beside Sharon with a bottle of water. “Are you off today?”

“Yeah, we had to work late last night. Weird satellite signal, but we can’t tell what it is.”

“Anything serious?” Steve asked, slipping from smiling to serious in a flash.

“We’re just not sure yet. King T’Challa said he’ll call a meeting once we actually have something to say. The techs are working on it now.”

“Then we may be needed.” He pulled an older model flip phone from his pocket and checked it. “Does anyone else know about the signal yet?”

“As far as we can tell it’s only been picked up by our satellites so far.” She considered for a moment that it no longer felt strange to refer to the resources of Wakanda as ‘ours.’ “All we know is that it’s anomalous.”

“So it’s possible it’s nothing.” He closed the phone with a snap. Sharon could tell he didn’t believe what he’d just said.

Sam seemed to have picked up on the same thing. “He’ll call if it ends up being…”

Sharon didn’t get to hear the rest, as she was called away. Within a few minutes of arriving in the intelligence center, she knew the briefing for the Avengers was definitely necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I initially said this would be 3 or 4 chapters, but I feel that, being on chapter 6, it turns out this story is longer than I thought it would be. Yay?


	7. Chapter 7

“Incoming!”

Sharon wasn’t sure who was shouting the warning, but the explosion on the feeds from the body cams worn by the Avengers deployed to São Paulo told her it was one of them. She concentrated on her station and tried not to tense up. She was safe in the International Command Center in a bunker under Lake Geneva, watching the latest battles unfold on assorted videos, her own screen displaying what the teams were seeing. Shortly after the aliens’ belligerent intentions had been discovered, she’d been appointed the Avengers’ liaison to the international community.

She wished she didn’t have to get used to the position via baptism by fire, but she was doing her best. She still flinched when she heard a pained cry over her headset – it sounded like Wanda. Her finger hovered over a button on her console that would connect her to medical aid, but no request came through the chatter. Wanda’s body cam was functional and she appeared to be moving again. Sharon didn’t relax.

There was no one in the world questioning the importance Avengers in the wake of the attack by aliens the world had dubbed the Reds. The name they called themselves was unpronounceable for human beings, but a Wakandan technician who decoded the initial transmissions commented on the aliens’ unique pigmentation – he’d actually said vermilion, but the shorter descriptive had been the one to stick. Sharon would have given them a name that recalled blood if she’d known what was coming when that first signal had been discovered (no matter how unabashedly excited some of her former colleagues at the CIA were to be matched up against an enemy called the Reds again).

 “Sam, what’s your status?” Steve sounded stressed. She thought he might be hurt, something that worried her more than it should have.

“I could use a little…” The sound of more explosions came over the line. “Yeah, that works.”

After the Avengers repelled two mass attacks, the aliens had adopted a divide and conquer strategy, deploying their forces to simultaneously strike the large population centers of Tokyo, New York and Sao Paulo. Iron Man and Vision had taken charge with US forces and the formerly exiled Avengers, still based in Wakanda, had split up to handle the other sites. Sharon was responsible for both the team Steve was leading in Tokyo, unexpectedly joined by Thor, which had met with success, and the team in São Paulo, led by Natasha, which was in trouble. Military coordination had proven less successful there and Black Widow, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch and Ant Man found themselves fighting the aliens more or less on their own.

Sharon found herself so wrapped up in the events in Brazil that she was shocked when Steve shouted, “Sharon, can you hear me?”

She flicked to her main communications line and made the video her central screen. “Steve, sorry.” She swallowed hard as she took in his appearance, bruised and bloody – and that was only his face. God, if Captain America had taken that kind of beating… She pushed her worry aside and centered her mind. It helped no one if she went to pieces and she was nothing if not a professional. “It looked like everything was under control there so I’ve been keeping an eye on other developments.”

“Thor has information on the Reds. Can you connect him to…everyone?”

“The rest of the team?”

“No, _everyone_. Command, ops, strategists, everyone who needs to be planning and fighting.”

“Yeah, just…” She waved over some technicians to start linking the channel through. “We should have it ready in a minute or so. Is your team okay?”

Steve shrugged. “Sam’s being treated for burns and T’Challa is clearing out a last pocket of Reds. Thor and I are right here, so…”

“What’s wrong? You look hurt.”

“All superficial. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sharon, I’m fine,” he insisted. She waited for him to ask about Natasha and her team, but he didn’t. He couldn’t be so concerned about Sharon’s feelings that he wouldn’t even ask about the other Avengers’ status. He seemed to fidget as the silence stretched between them.

Just as she was about to break it, one of the techs gave her a thumbs up. “We’re ready here.”

“Good. Thor?”

Thor’s massive frame took up most of the screen. “Midgardians, I have information of great import. These Reds, as you call them, are not simply aliens. They are partially descended from the founder of Hydra, a man called Johann Schmidt.”

“The Red Skull,” Steve spat in the background, the reason for his distraction suddenly clear. Sharon had heard the story of Captain America’s heroic sacrifice in thwarting the Red Skull’s plan many times from her Aunt Peggy. “Thought we got rid of him in ’45.”

“Indeed. He was not destroyed by the tesseract as had been assumed but rather transported to another world, where he gathered a following who thought him to be a god. When the group was expelled from their own planet for a failed revolution, they set their sights on your world to avenge the defeat of their leader.”

“At least Schmidt’s dead.”

“Yes, and the current force is the last of his followers. They are desperate, knowing that failure means extinction. We must defeat them.”

Sharon moved away from the main screen to check another monitor, where an emergency alert was flashing. She called up the video. “Hey, nice of you to check in!”

“Jesus, Clint!” She let her mouth hang open in shock for a moment as she took in both his battered appearance and the desolate hellscape flaming in the background as he ran. She abruptly remembered she needed to start directing resources to him. “Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m still in São Paulo, I think, or what’s left of it. As for what happened, there was a big fucking explosion. What, did you switch over to _General Hospital_ or something?”

“Thor has been briefing us on the aliens,” she offered. She didn’t take the barb personally, though it was at least partially true – she had been so busy listening to Thor’s intel that she’d stopped monitoring the other Avengers. She quickly scrolled through the feeds from their body cameras and found them all transmitting static. “Where’s the team?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. All communications are down.”

“Then how are we talking?”

“I grabbed an iPhone off a dead guy. Why is it military networks are down here but Vivo is giving me five bars?”

She shrugged. “The Reds must have taken out the our satellites but not the commercial ones. I’ll get tech on it.”

“Hurry. I haven’t seen anyone not screaming at me in Portuguese in at least ten minutes and I’m starting to…wait.” The picture started to shake even more as the scenery started to blur. “Wanda! Wanda, is that you?”

Sharon let out a sigh of relief as she heard Wanda’s distant reply, “Clint! Thank God! I haven’t been able to talk to anyone and Scott is hurt!”

“I’m coming. You seen Natasha?”

“No, not since the explosion.”

“Damn.” Sharon got a glimpse of what looked like a shattered city block as Clint pulled up his run inside a doorway. “Carter, can you triangulate our position and get a medevac? There’s a ton of civilians here, too and…shit…” The image changed to what looked like the inside of a pocket, though she could still hear what was happening. “Wanda, we got incoming ground troops.”

“But Scott is…”

“Come on!”

Sharon tried to follow the action without being a distraction until the image and sound went dark. Clint must have accidentally ended the call. Or smashed the phone. Or… She forced herself not to consider the other possibilities. Now Steve was calling her name. She flipped her mouthpiece down again. “Steve, sorry. What do you need?”

“What’s the situation with everyone else?”

She glanced over the latest reports to the side on her screen. “New York is under control. Unfortunately, it looks like they’re concentrating all their forces in São Paulo and communications are down there, at least in the city. Is there any way Thor can use his hammer to…”

“Thor!” He disappeared for a moment. When he reappeared, he was wearing his helmet again. “We’re going there. Send everything you can.”

“Steve…” She switched to his body camera, which only ran for another few seconds before turning to static after a burst of light. An observer in a jet above São Paulo swore in surprise moments later, claiming he saw the Reds firing a new weapon. Sharon quickly clarified that it was just Thor and Captain America arriving. She hoped they would be able to help.


	8. Chapter 8

Sharon picked her way down a rubble-strewn street, looking for any signs of life in the burned and shattered buildings that lined it. The Reds had been defeated and their threat eliminated roughly forty-eight hours before. Clint, Wanda and Scott had been transferred back to Wakanda for medical treatment, where they were currently recovering along with Sam. T’Challa, who had suffered only minor injuries, had been prevailed upon by his advisors to remain in the country, though he had contributed recovery teams and millions in resources to the affected cities. Sharon had boarded a jet from Switzerland to join Thor and Steve in São Paulo before the smoke had cleared – or before the threat had been neutralized, at least. With the amount of dust in the air, it was hard to see more than a few hundred feet in any direction or breathe comfortably without a mask. The greatest dangers now were from the collapse of unsound structures, disease and water contamination.

Everything about the circumstances was conspiring against survivors, which made it even more worrying that Natasha had been missing for almost three days. Sharon’s heart broke a little bit every time she spoke to Steve; he hadn’t slept in days, running on pure adrenaline and desperation. She was working to help him as much as anyone else as she adjusted her helmet and checked in with the rest of the team she was patrolling with before entering another shaky building.

She held her weapon ready as she rapidly moved through the lobby of the small office building she’d just entered and then down a wide hall, glancing through a door into what looked like an empty lawyer’s office. “Hello?” When there was no response, she checked two more offices along the hallway with the same result, though there were several bodies that were none-too-fresh in the last office. She marked it for the burial detail.

Her finger tensed on the trigger when she moved into the central courtyard, noting signs of a firefight. There were three dead Reds crumpled on the ground and one hanging from a balcony railing. Huh. That was somehow familiar. A memory flashed through her mind, Natasha and Clint demonstrating how to set up a trap over a tree limb in the Wakandan forest… Sharon sprinted across the grass as she spotted a browning blotch on the gravel path near the opposite door. She burst through it, following dried patches of human blood on the beige carpet into a doctor’s office.  Her breath caught in her throat as she entered the last treatment room. Her weapon swung down on its strap as she dropped it in favor of pressing the transmit button on her communicator. “Sierra Charlie 4-9-5 requesting medic, northwest corner! Priority alpha!”

Ignoring the radio confirmation, she knelt beside Natasha, unable to avoid a tacky blood pool and praying she was just unconscious. She had obviously been able to make it here to start treating herself, applying pressure and gauze after the fight in the courtyard, so that had to be a good sign. Sharon moved aside her mask and leaned down, but Natasha’s breathing wasn’t apparent. She steeled herself to check her pulse, reaching out with shaking fingers. Nothing. She moved her fingers down slightly. Still nothing. Shit. _Shit_!

Wait, gloves. With her hands still shaking, Sharon pulled off her thick gloves. Her fingers moved back to Natasha’s neck, making the other woman’s skin look even paler by contrast. Nothing. Why couldn’t she feel a pulse? She pressed slightly harder and waited. She couldn’t be sure if she was feeling a faint heartbeat or her own trembling.

Her lack of medical certainty was abruptly relieved as Natasha suddenly coughed weakly. Sharon nearly cried. “Natasha! Romanoff! Natasha, can you hear me? It’s Sharon. Sharon Carter.” She had to swallow hard before saying the one thing she thought would get a reaction, “You need to be okay because Steve needs you. He’s lost without you. You have to fight.”

Natasha didn’t open her eyes, but Sharon thought she could see her breathing now. Maybe. She decided to talk until support arrived. “I know comms have been down since the Reds took out our satellites, but I thought you would have figured something out if you’d been able to. Even Clint managed to find a working cell phone, so…he’s doing fine, by the way. He had some pretty nasty wounds, but he’s back, um, home with…everyone. Thor is here, though, and he’s looking for you. And Steve is, obviously. Steve is on a major guilt trip, as if he could have predicted how things could have worked out.”

She waited a moment, straining to hear help coming. After checking to ensure her GPS was working, she resumed, “He’s been interrogating survivors about you, asking them if they’ve seen a redhead. He doesn’t speak Portuguese other than that one phrase – ‘Have you seen a red-haired woman?’ He’s…you know how he feels about you. I can’t say I know what it’s like to have someone love me the way Steve loves _you_ , but…” A knot of jealousy Sharon hadn’t expected swelled in her chest. She tried a different track. “We won. Humanity, I mean. The Reds aren’t going to be a problem anymore. You saved the world again.”

“We.” Sharon was sure she had imagined the correction until one of Natasha’s eyes fluttered open. “We saved…”

“Hey. We’ve been worried about you. We lost comms and…Natasha?” Sharon fought back her panic as Natasha’s eye closed again. She tried the nickname she’d heard a few times. “Nat, wake up, stay with me. Lila and Cooper want to see their aunt. And Steve needs you back. Steve loves you, remember?”

A rough hiss of breath was Natasha’s only response. Sharon shouted to guide the steps of medical team she finally heard toward her position. They appeared moments later, taking over for her ineffective pulse-taking with actual care. She followed the gurney into the street as the medics continued to work, speaking to each other in a language she didn’t understand – Dutch, maybe? She would have cursed these international teams if she didn’t recognize the word for helicopter when they stopped in a mostly cleared square. She raised her arm to shield herself from debris whipped up by the rotors a minute later. They loaded Natasha and flashed an OK sign.

Once the helicopter had lifted off, Sharon pressed the transmission button that linked her only to the Avengers, “Black Widow en route to Central. Copy?”

“Sharon? Is that you?” Steve sounded almost giddy over the radio. “You found Natasha?”

She felt a twinge when she realized he’d never sounded so eager when she, Sharon, was involved, but pushed it down. She could walk back to her patrol and talk over the radio, but not brood too. “Yes, I found her. She’s inbound on a chopper, probably a direct transfer to the helicarrier.”

“I already told them to bring her straight here,” Nick Fury growled. Sharon had no idea how he seemed to get that ship crewed and wherever it needed to be at a moment’s notice, but chalked it up to what SHIELD employees used to call ‘Fury Power.’

Steve ignored him. “She’s hurt?”

“Yeah.”

His enthusiasm was tempered when he asked, “Bad?”

She decided not to sugarcoat things. “She’s alive, Steve. She made it three days with no help and now her chances are even better with medical treatment. Try not to worry. We have to stay focused while we’re here.”

“Right.” He sighed audibly over the comms. “I don’t suppose our official liaison can get us a break, huh?”

“We’re here as volunteers, Steve,” she reminded him. “We can leave today if you want.”

She could almost see him frowning as he thought about her suggestion. She knew he was probably weighing his desire to be with Natasha with his sense of duty to help the city. He eventually said, “Fury, are you still there?”

“Hill’s at Central Command as we speak,” he answered. “She’ll give you a ride back to the helicarrier.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sharon added. She was getting a little tired of finding corpses here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait between updates. I was inexcusably distracted by other ideas, real life and shiny things.

Sharon smiled as she walked into Wanda’s hospital room with a small exotic potted plant the palace gardener had helped her pick an hour before. “Hey! How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Wanda smiled weakly. In spite of advanced Wakandan medicine, the injuries the Avengers had sustained in the battles with the Reds were taking some time to heal. Wanda was still in traction for her fractured leg even though she’d been back for several days. “Is what I heard true? You went to São Paulo and rescued Natasha?”

“Well…rescued is a strong word.” Sharon hid her proud blush by busying herself making a small space for the plant among the cards and flowers on the already crowded bedside table. “I found her, but that was just a matter of luck. Anyone working a recovery team could have.”

“But _you_ did,” Wanda insisted.

“Because things weren’t weird enough already.”

“I thought you didn’t have a problem with Natasha.”

“I…don’t.”

Wanda aimed a knowing look at her. “You hesitated.”

Sharon decided not to open herself to potential psychic hijacking, though she didn’t think Wanda would do it even if she were up to it. “I admit that I may be the slightest bit jealous, but you should have seen how worried Steve was the whole time she was missing. He was half-crazy. I know it’s a stupid thing to be caught up on, considering she had to be hurt or she would have made contact, but…I don’t know.”

“You are upset because you could not imagine him being so concerned for you,” Wanda filled in.

“Kind of.” Sharon frowned, unsure if she was allowing herself to be opened to psychic probing of if she was just that transparent. “Makes me a terrible person, huh?”

“Hardly. It’s not like you found her then left her to rot for a few days. You didn’t, did you?”

“No. I would never.” She considered some dreams she had vividly experienced on her folding cot in the tent city of relief workers. “But there were a few times I seriously considered comforting Steve. _Comforting_ him.”

“That is a confusing innuendo. Besides, neither of you would have done it.” Wanda slid a drinking straw under her cast and started scratching. “At least Cheikh is happy to see you, right?”

Sharon sighed loudly, though she hadn’t intended to. “He’s back in Dakar. His mother is sick and with everything happening, I think he just felt better being close to her.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not like he could have done anything here. Or anywhere. The Reds didn’t leave a lot of room for diplomacy.”

“Hmm.” Wanda continued absently scratching under her cast. “Have you talked to him at least?

“Not since before I went to São Paulo. I should email him later.”

“Try not to sound so excited about it,” Wanda deadpanned, but she thankfully didn’t push further. “Have you seen anyone else yet?”

“Just T’Challa when I got here. How is everyone?”

“Clint is already out, but I think Laura may have convinced the doctors he would be less trouble for her than them.”

“That bad?” She had gotten a summary of the team’s assorted injuries, but no details. She knew enough to know it was bad if there was another unexpected emergency. “Is he at least mobile?”

“Yes. I believe he tried to escape several times, which was impressive given his punctured lung. Scott has a reconstructed knee and some internal injuries. He and I have been facetiming since neither of us can get out of bed yet. Oh, you are not going to believe it when you see Sam.”

“What’s not to believe?” Sam called from the doorway. Sharon turned to greet him, but she was overtaken by uncontrollable giggling the moment she saw him. He didn’t’ react, saying, “Yeah, laugh it up. I’ll have you know this is a specially designed micromesh aloe vera magic burn healing suit.”

“It is a neon green spandex monstrosity,” Wanda replied when Sharon couldn’t, having had time to get used to Sam’s appearance.

“You look like someone at the Weather Channel lost their mind,” Sharon added. His bodysuit was the color of the screens used by meteorologists standing in front of weather maps. She started to laugh harder as she imagined his floating head and hands predicting mild weather and a thirty percent chance of rain. She tried to regain her composure, but managed only to sputter, “How…how are…”

“My burned and blistered skin is feeling much better, thanks to my special suit,” he replied, sobering her only slightly. “I think it looks pretty good, actually. Maybe add some camo and I’ll suit up in it. Watch how it makes my muscles pop.” He dropped into a lunge, pointing at his bulging quadriceps. “Bam!”

“That is…something,” Sharon replied, still trying to get her laughter under control. “You’re…”

“If you’re gonna make a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles joke, I already heard it, although I do appreciate a Bebop and Rocksteady gag.” Sam ignored her burst of giggles. “Fine, you don’t appreciate cartoons. Whatever, I’m cool.”

Sharon managed to control her own laughter. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…”

“Yeah, nobody expects a sexy spandex Falcon.” Sam didn’t seem particularly put out by her lack of outright sympathy. “Steve stopped in for a minute earlier. I think he was just killing time until he could see Natasha.”

“I heard she had to go back to surgery when she got here.” In spite of her jealousy, Sharon was still concerned about the team’s well-being. “But she’ll be okay, right?”

“That’s what the docs have said,” Sam replied, taking a slow and cautious seat on the other side of Wanda’s bed. “She’s lucky, huh?”

“You’d know,” Sharon answered, not intending the bitterness she was sure came through in her statement. She didn’t want Natasha to suffer for saving the planet any more than she wanted Sam to have to spend an extra minute in his ridiculous special suit. “I didn’t actually have to fight anyone, so I feel like I dodged a major hit.”

“You’re not kiddin’, Spook!” Scott suddenly called from the tablet propped up on Wanda’s over-bed table. “Why isn’t anyone visiting me?”

“They like me more, obviously,” Wanda replied, her face lighting up with a teasing smile as Sharon waved to the screen. “And you have that embarrassing tube.”

“I’ve got, like, four embarrassing tubes comin’ outta me right now.” He seemed cheerful in spite of his worn out appearance. “So, I take it the band is back together in Wakanda now?”

Sharon answered, “Thor is still in Brazil helping with the rescue efforts, but the rest of us are here. I think we’ll be guests in Wakanda for the immediate future. The UN is planning a special session to reevaluate the Accords, but not until the dust settles. No reason to focus on the Avengers before the more serious issues have been resolved.”

“Yeah, not like my sister’s first kid won’t wait an extra two months to be born,” Sam muttered under his breath.

“Sam…” Wanda was cut off by Steve’s sudden appearance. He looked absolutely ragged, still in the torn and dirty fatigues he’d been wearing in São Paulo – clothes Sharon had procured for him after convincing him his Captain America suit was on the point of disintegrating. Not even Nick Fury had been able to move him out of the medical unit on the helicarrier as the surgical team and worked to save Natasha, nor had T’Challa’s urging convinced him to leave the hospital waiting room here. At least the gash he’d had on his forehead had already healed into a thin, pale scar that would probably be gone in a few days.

He sank into the chair Sam jumped out of and offered him. “Thanks.”

Sam squeezed his shoulder. “How’s Nat?”

“Stable. They let me see her for a minute before they kicked me out to go take a shower. Probably for the best. Don’t want to give her an infection or…” Steve’s breath suddenly caught in his throat, like he had just managed to swallow a sob before it could escape. “How is…are you guys all okay? Wanda? Scott?”

“We are going to be fine, Steve.” Wanda’s hand look small as she grasped Steve’s much larger one. “We are all together and we are safe.”

Sharon felt tears prickling in her eyes. She had never anticipated having such an odd family. Before she could ruin the moment, a Wakandan woman appeared in the room. “Ms. Carter? King T’Challa has requested your presence for a conference.”

“Now?”

The tall woman nodded. “Mr. Stark and Mr. Vision have requested permission to visit Wakanda. As the international liaison to the Avengers…”

“Of course. May I have a moment?”

“His Highness is waiting,” the woman replied somewhat testily, but left the room.

Sharon looked at the assembled Avengers, including Scott on the tablet. “Yes or no?”

Sam frowned and Scott shrugged. Wanda said, “I would like to see Vision.”

She looked at Steve. His shoulders sagged as he said, “Talk to them and figure out why they want to come. I trust your judgment.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know what happens.”

She was nearly out of the hospital wing when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. “Steve, I won’t just let them in if they plan to…” She was cut off as he pulled her into a tight hug. He smelled like stale sweat and dirt; it should not have been a turn-on.

His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “Thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal. I can handle Stark.”

His embrace tightened slightly, giving her the odd sensation that he was the only thing holding her upright. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“She’s going to be fine,” Sharon managed to say. It was surprising hard to think clearly wrapped in Steve’s arms.

“You saved her.”

It was a terrible sort of honor, saving the life of a respected not-actual adversary. Steve loved Natasha and Sharon accepted that, but she didn’t like that she was now connected to their relationship in such a significant way. She stated diplomatically, “I just did what I could.”

“Thank you,” he repeated before letting her go.

She smiled weakly. “You should probably go take that shower.” She hoped the joke covered up the awkwardness as she walked away.


	10. Chapter 10

Sharon stood on the landing pad atop the palace annex, peering into the cloudy sky. After establishing the reason for the requested visit was to check on teammates and exchange intel from the battles, T’Challa had agreed with her recommendation to allow Stark and Vision into Wakanda for a few days, later amended to include Colonel Rhodes and Peter Parker. They were currently running late.

“There is an electrical storm to the northwest,” T’Challa said, seeming to read her impatience. He was standing beside her, exuding a calm she knew she should have also felt; after all, this was her country now and she had nothing to worry about. “Our pilots are escorting them. It should not be much longer once they have cleared the weather.”

She shifted back and forth, keeping her attention on the sky. It had been just over a week since she had agreed on behalf of the Avengers to a meeting with their former teammates and they were all experiencing different levels of anxiety over the prospect. “I think Steve is having second thoughts about this.”

“I believe he is far beyond just second thoughts. He was pleased when I told him that I have asked my medical staff to examine Col. Rhodes, if he agrees, to determine if we have treatments available to speed his recovery.”

She nodded. She was only passingly acquainted with Rhodes, but she knew his injury had had a profound effect on the team. Sam was particularly interested in seeing Rhodes walk again; apparently the shot that had hit Rhodes had been intended for Sam. The next few days promised to be fraught with similar shades of guilt and anger on all sides.

On the plus side, Natasha was in the process of being discharged from the hospital wing as Sharon waited on the roof for the others’ arrival, so the team would be together tonight in Avengers’ Wing for the first time in over two weeks. Even the Barton family had temporarily relocated from the guest house while the visitors were in Wakanda. Laura said she wanted to be closer in case Natasha, Wanda and Scott needed any help, while Clint said he wanted to reduce the chances of Laura coming into contact with and consequently beating the crap out of Stark. Sharon thought Laura probably had the best shot at getting to him first, considering both Wanda and Natasha were still recovering from their injuries. Laura also had a fierce ‘Mama Bear’ streak that anyone would regret testing and Stark was nothing if not testing.  

The sound of an approaching aircraft roused her from her thoughts. A quinjet appeared through the cloudbank a moment later, descending onto the landing pad a little faster than Sharon would have liked. She exchanged a significant look with T’Challa as it powered down. Stark was the first to debark when the ramp had lowered, looking every bit the spoiled billionaire in his tailored pinstriped suit and rose-colored glasses. Col. Rhodes followed, wheelchair being counterbalanced on the ramp by Vision, then a stunned-looking teenager. Sharon focused on the boy. She had seen Parker’s dossier but never met him, though the report of the airport battle in Leipzig had catalogued some of his impressive abilities. She judged him to be innocuous for the time being, too caught up in the foreign surroundings to be a threat. Stark on the other hand…

One of T’Challa’s Tall Women, Akinyi, nearly decked him when he clapped the king’s shoulder. “Hey. Didn’t think we’d be meeting like this, but it’s good to see you again.” As an afterthought, he added, “Your majesty.”

To his credit, T’Challa remained impassive, maneuvering the gesture into a handshake. “Welcome to Wakanda, Mr. Stark. I am glad you could all join us. Would you like to see your quarters for your stay? Rest a bit after your long journey?”

“Yeah, sure. I could use a nap, maybe a little nosh. Rhodey? Petey? Vision, I assume you’re cool.”

Sharon had been in Wakanda long enough to feel the affront of addressing King T’Challa so casually when he was acting in his official capacity. She didn’t know if Stark was being arrogant or ignorant, but she certainly didn’t like his attitude. He played with his cufflinks as T’Challa made his offer of medical expertise to Col. Rhodes, who had the grace to accept with dignity. Vision was also respectful and it was clear Parker was trying, even if he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

Stark rubbed his hands together the moment Rhodes shook T’Challa’s hand. “Hey, that’s great. Will I be able to order room service or…?”

Sharon stepped between T’Challa and Stark before Akinyi could make her cold rage felt. “I can show you to your quarters now.” She nodded to T’Challa. “If that’s all right with you, your highness?”

“Thank you, Miss Carter,” he replied, tilting his head with what she thought was a ‘thank you.’ Akinyi also gave her a small, tight smile.

Sharon didn’t expect any acknowledgement from Stark that she’d just spared him a deserved beat-down. He simply waved two palace porters toward the open cargo hold of the quinjet. “Bags are in there, thanks.” He turned a toothy grin toward Sharon. “Lead the way, Agent, oh, sorry, I mean _Miss_ Carter.”

She ignored the barb, though she did hear Rhodes mutter something about Stark that didn’t sound entirely complimentary. Conversation remained polite as they descended from the landing pad, stepping off the elevator into the glassed-in connector to the palace proper. Parker started asking questions about everything from the surrounding jungle to Wakandan cancer research, all of which Sharon answered to the best of her ability. She did find it curious that no one asked about the other Avengers, but chalked it up to the same uneasiness bothering her own friends over the upcoming meetings.

The guest quarters were fairly far away from Avengers’ Wing, but the elevator that serviced them also happened to be the most direct route from the hospital, something Sharon didn’t remember until its doors opened to reveal Steve holding Natasha in his arms bridal-style as they laughed, faces very close. In spite of a pang that shot through her chest, Sharon cleared her throat loudly in an attempt to warn them they had an audience.

Steve only tightened his embrace when he looked up and saw them. “Hello.” He stepped out of the elevator without putting Natasha down. “We were just heading back from the medical unit.”

Although Rhodes, Parker and Vision had all offered polite greetings and moved aside to let them pass, Stark planted himself directly in from of them. “Well, well. Aren’t you two cozy. It does explain some things, so I guess I shouldn’t be shocked. Hey, speaking of shocks, Romanoff, it’s so nice to hear the king’s forgiven you for nearly tasing him into unconsciousness.”

“Stark,” Natasha stated simply, not reacting with anger. She lightly tapped Steve’s shoulder and he gently let her down, but kept his arm securely around her waist. Sharon thought she looked a bit unsteady on her feet. She _had_ just been discharged from the hospital a week or so after almost dying, of course. She smiled as she turned to Rhodes. “How are you feeling, Rhodey?”

“Still not much of anything from the waist down, but King T’Challa says his people may have some ideas. Heard you got hit pretty bad in Brazil.”

“Nothing time won’t fix. It’s good to see you. You too, Vision. Wanda’s been looking forward to seeing you.”

“And I her,” Vision replied. “I realize we have just arrived, but would Miss Maximoff and I be able to speak soon?”

Steve’s lips turned upward slightly. “We’ll let her know. We should probably…”

“Oh, don’t let us keep you from your regularly scheduled adult content,” Stark interrupted. “I’d hate to think you put on clothes just because we were coming.”

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Sharon reluctantly stepped in to save Stark from serious and debilitating pain. “Why don’t we head up to your rooms, okay?” She steered the group into the elevator, noting that Steve picked up Natasha again as the doors blocked them from everyone else’s view. She was probably still in significant pain if she was letting him carry her around.

Luckily for Sharon’s fraying patience, Stark managed not to be to insulting as she settled them in their quarters. She escaped Parker’s question about Steve and Natasha’s relationship just as the porters were delivering the luggage. She made a mental note to remind the team that international incidents involved a lot of paperwork. That would potentially get them through day one, at least.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but I'm lazy and busy, a killer combination for ficcing. I'm trying, I swear. I want to be better. No promises.

The first day, Sharon chalked up Stark’s attitude to jet lag. The second day, she thought it was lingering resentment about the snafu with the Accords. Today, she had given up making excuses and decided he was just the biggest asshole she’d ever met, and she’d worked for the US government.

She couldn’t remember a much rougher series of days than these even within her unique body of experience. The period immediately following the adoption of the Sokovia Accords had been hard, but she had mostly been on the outside looking in on the Avengers’ internal conflict. The fall of SHIELD certainly qualified, but that had been more of a harrowing few hours for her. The Reds’ invasion…that had been worse, but she didn’t want to undermine her own righteous anger. Spending her time mediating directly between the Avengers and the Other Avengers – or the Avengers and Stark, more accurately, because Rhodes, Vision and Parker were perfectly civil – was wearing on her last nerve and there were six days of their visit to go.

She dropped onto the couch in the communal area of Avengers’ Wing with an overly-generous proportion of Jack and Coke after listening with pseudo-commiseration to almost an hour of Stark’s complaints about how ‘mean’ everyone was being during the meetings, especially now that they’d moved on from intel regarding the recent attack to suggestions about revamping the Accords. She wasn’t usually one to drink immediately after work, but she felt she’d earned something to take the edge off. She had no idea how Stark could have headed a multinational company, and no doubts about why it was significantly more successful with Pepper Potts at the helm.

Sharon took another long sip from her drink, playing some positive scenes from the last few days in her head to remind herself it wasn’t just a droning track of Stark’s nonstop whining.

_Wanda hugging Vision while floating a foot off the ground._

_Rhodes and Sam shaking hands in the infirmary just before a Wakandan doctor informed Rhodes about a regenerative cellular treatment that could help him._

_Parker becoming the oblivious object of Lila Barton’s affection._

The parade of remembered images drew an unexpected smile to her lips. Sharon found herself unexpectedly sucking the ice in her glass as she opened her eyes. She sighed and pushed herself off the couch, deciding she deserved another drink. If the team was going to abandon her to Stark’s nonsense _and_ not be home when she needed a friendly ear…

The main door opened as the hiss from the Coke can she’d just opened sounded loudest. The team had been more willing to embrace their isolation over the past few days, but no one had sequestered themselves in Avengers’ Wing, with everyone coming and going to the gym, dining room and infirmary (considering the recent battles) as usual. There was really no reason for Sharon to tense up when Steve walked in with Natasha in his arms.

Sharon ducked behind the kitchen cabinets as Natasha laughed and said, “You really don’t have to carry me.”

“I know, but I get worried when you’re short of breath from walking down a hallway.”

“Fine.” She pressed her lips to his as she squirmed out of his arms to set her feet on the floor. “Just don’t do it when Stark can see us.”

“Like Stark needs another reason to be an idiot.”

Sharon laughed in spite of herself. Natasha was immediately sitting on a stool across the kitchen island. “Hey, Liaison.”

“Hey.” Sharon’s smile didn’t disappear as she mixed her second drink. “I know it’s early, but…”

“Don’t worry about it. We all know Stark and you’re getting a higher dose than the FDA recommends. We would’ve hung around to run interference, but _he_ ,” Natasha slapped a gentle backhand against Steve’s chest, “wanted to win the checkup race. Sam should be back from the infirmary next.”

“Can he wear clothes over that green…thing?”

Steve rolled his eyes at Sharon’s question. “He said he likes making Stark squirm, like the rest of us don’t have to suffer too.”

Sharon shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“You don’t have to deal with Tony by yourself.” His hand suddenly covered hers on the countertop. “I know I’ve been distracted with…with the team still recovering, but it was never my intention to let you deal with this entire visit on your own.”

“It’s not…” She stared down at their hands for a moment before pulling hers back like a delayed reflex on touching a hot stove. She didn’t want his comfort. She _didn’t_. “I…”

Natasha cut her off like a psychic pain vulture, “Steve, why don’t you go take a shower?”

“I took a shower this morning.”

“Then go work out so you need another one.”

“I…” He looked back and forth between the two women slowly until a sort of comprehension dawned. “Right. I’ll be in the shower. I mean, I’ll change and then go to the gym and then the shower.”

“Good.” Natasha accepted a kiss on the cheek then chattered about how she wished she could drink but had promised not to touch alcohol until her doctors cleared her for…the casual banter was replaced by what Sharon could only describe as an interrogation tone when a door down the hall closed.  “What’s really going on? Spill.”

“What are you…?”

“Sharon, we both know you could tie Stark into a bowline without a second thought, so the fact that you haven’t is suspicious.”

She felt a bubble of national pride rising through her chest. “I am an official representative of the Wakandan government and…”

“Not what I’m asking,” Natasha interrupted. Her green eyes became laser-emitting slits. “What’s going on with you and Cheikh?”

Sharon swallowed hard. She had initially thought the mediation between the disparate Avengers would provide a useful cover between her professional and personal issues, but she had clearly underestimated certain individual’s powers of perception. There was really no point in prolonging the inevitable when it had been spelled out so clearly in Oxford-educated English over a series of lengthy emails. “We broke up.”

“Just like that?” Natasha immediately violated her own precepts of temperance, stealing a sip from Sharon’s Jack and Coke. “I thought you two were good together.”

“We were, but he wants to stay in Senegal with his sick mother and I’m not moving to Dakar, so…” She trailed off as if the conclusion were obvious, reclaiming her drink and draining half of it in one gulp. She felt like the end should have been clearer. Wakanda wasn’t a permanent solution, no matter how much she liked working with Wakandan intelligence and living in the palace. She still had a foot in the wider world, given how quickly she had jumped at the opportunity of being the Avengers’ UN liaison. She didn’t like the idea that she’d been on the rebound, especially now that she knew how little emotional investment Steve had had in their relationship, but there was a part of her that didn’t want to admit her own unreciprocated commitment. The fact that Steve’s true love was sitting in front of her being sympathetic about her failed relationship didn’t help. Sharon took a deep breath and said, “I liked him, but it’s not like we were together for that long. I’ll meet someone else…”

“I’m sorry.” Natasha clasped her hand as Steve had done not long before. Sharon didn’t pull away. “He’s going to be kicking himself in a few months when some guy is sweeping you off your feet to take you around the world.”

“Sure.” She couldn’t help noticing that had reappeared, not wearing gym clothes and watching Natasha anxiously. Any tension was dispelled by Sam and Scott’s sudden appearance.

The latter was leaning heavily on the former as they walked through the main door. “You couldn’t have just shrunk down to TicTac size and ridden in my pocket, huh?”

“Your unitard has pockets?”

Sam shook Scott’s arm off his green spandex clad shoulders. “Yeah, you’re on your own, man.”

Sharon almost gleefully stepped in to mediate an argument without international implications, telling herself it was nothing personal.  


	12. Chapter 12

The only real complaint Sharon had about Wakanda was the tepid verging on lukewarm tap water. She had fled to the bathroom for a break from the never-ending Avengers’ Conference (as her Wakandan colleagues had taken to calling it) and found that, once again, she couldn’t really splash cold water on her face to confirm that this wasn’t just a bad dream. She sighed and glanced into the mirror for a moment to ensure her makeup hadn’t run. The last thing she needed was Stark mocking her for raccoon eyes or some damn thing. She decided she could probably justify touching up her mascara.

A few minutes later, she felt like she had maxed out her dawdling time and left the bathroom with another deep sigh. Lunch was at least ninety minutes away and she had already used her one get-out-of-jail-free card for the morning. She had almost reached the corner of the hallway when she heard Akinyi, who was supervising the king’s security detail today, shouting, “…and then I will slowly insert sharpened panther ribs into his fingertips directly through the nails!”

“And then break each phalanx into at least three pieces?” Sharon broke into a run, but she was surprised to see that Natasha was grasping Akinyi’s shoulders rather than sending her back into the conference room as she said, “We’ve all wanted to break most of Stark’s bones at some point or another, but the worst thing you can do is give into it. He _wants_ to feel like he’s the victim because that gives him an excuse to push back.”

“Yet he is the one currently doing all the pushing. We cannot be expected to continue tolerating his disrespect.”

“No, and you shouldn’t, but remember that he’s leaving in two days and he has influence with the UN. How will it look for Wakanda if Stark goes back bruised and bleeding?”

Akinyi looked as if she was going to argue but instead sniffed and stood to her full height. “Very well. But only until luncheon.”

“Thank you.”

Sharon walked up to Natasha as Akinyi reentered the conference room with her elegant shoulders thrown back. “Guess I shouldn’t have had three cups of coffee at breakfast.”

“I think Stark was specifically waiting for you to leave the room. He knows you’ll defuse the situation faster than he can ignite it,” Natasha replied, sagging slightly against the wall. She hadn’t completely recovered from her injuries yet and calming Akinyi’s justified rage seemed to have taken a lot out of her. “I don’t blame Akinyi at all. If I were a Tall Woman I definitely would have snapped days ago with the way Stark talks to T’Challa.”

Sharon bit back a reflexive joke about Natasha’s height in favor of considering the high praise she’d just received. She certainly didn’t feel as powerful as Natasha had made her sound, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with a friend, especially not about a compliment. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Stark is a sentence, not a job,” Natasha corrected. She seemed to be having trouble catching her breath. “Besides, he’s…God, why…”

Sharon caught her as she pitched forward in a coughing fit. “Okay. Infirmary.”

“S’okay,” Natasha tried to protest as Sharon pulled the other woman’s arm around her shoulders. “Really.”

“Please. You’re barely fighting me. Me!”

“You…” Natasha continued fighting for air as Sharon dragged her toward the bank of elevators at the end of the hall. They were standing in the plush car heading up to the hospital wing when she managed to get out, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“I don’t need…”

“Argue later.”

Sharon was left with no other option as they stepped off the elevator and Natasha was delivered into the waiting arms of two Wakandan nurses. She made her way to the too familiar waiting room as the medical staff worked. She heard a call for oxygen and tried to ignore the tech that ran by with several bags of what looked like blood. That was probably for someone else. Natasha was healing. She wasn’t in danger any longer. She…

“Miss Carter?”

Sharon tried to share the encouragement of the Wakandan nurse who had just summoned her. “Yes?”

“You did well bringing Miss Romanoff to us so quickly. She will be fine after a brief procedure.”

“Brief procedure?” Sharon repeated, wishing she’d taken Medical Jargon rather than French in college.

The nurse smiled widely, showing gleaming rows of even teeth. “Of course. Wait here and we will let you know when you can see her.”

“Right.” She sat back down, feeling odd that she was some kind of designated visitor. Rescuing Natasha was becoming uncomfortably habitual, if that was what had, in fact, actually happened. Sharon was still sitting on the edge of her chair contemplating the situation while expecting news when Steve burst in an hour later. “Sharon! What happened? Where is she?”

“It’s okay, Steve,” she replied with far less composure than she felt, although it was surprisingly easy to slip into the appeasing mediator tone she’d been using for the past few days. “Natasha was having trouble breathing, so I brought her here. She’s with the doctors, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“Nat doesn’t go to the doctor for nothing!”

Sharon took a moment to remind herself that Steve was dealing with both the continued fallout from the Sokovia Accords in the person of Tony Stark and his own personal demons regarding injured friends and…others. “You know how good the medical staff is and they’re taking care of her, okay?”

“Then it’s just…”

“Of course.” Sharon had no reason to be so confident. She’d been worrying out of her own skin after the first thirty minutes with no updates. Natasha had barely been breathing when they’d arrived and…

“Ah, Captain Rogers, Miss Carter,” Dr. Diya said as she stepped into the room, pulling her surgical mask down. “Miss Romanoff is in recovery, but you will have to wait before seeing her.”

Sharon’s thoughts tuned the rest of the doctor’s explanation out even as Steve hung on every word. Natasha was going to be fine, so there was no reason for concern. Dr. Diya left them a few minutes later, having promised Steve he could see Natasha very soon. He sank back into his seat and buried his face in his hands. It took Sharon a moment to realize he was crying. She moved to sit beside him and, after some hesitation, to rub circles on his back. “Steve, she’s going to be fine. You heard the doctor.”

“S’my fault,” he mumbled through his fingers. She didn’t prompt further, but let him continue at his own pace. “This morning we…” She tried not to fill in the blanks when he trailed off, but it was hard not to imagine what he might feel like on top of her as she continued to rub his muscular back. “I thought she was better, but now she’s…I should _never_ have…”

Sharon grimaced internally, but took a deep breath and said, “I take it you forced yourself on her.”

“What?” Steve’s head shot up, his watery eyes wide. “I would never, ever…oh.”

She smiled kindly. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. If you and Natasha were, um, intimate this morning, it was something you both wanted. Maybe she thought she did feel well enough or maybe it was…what, exactly happened while I was in the bathroom earlier?”

“Stark asked T’Challa if he wanted to come to a strip club the next time he was traveling, or something along those lines. One of the Tall Women…”

“Akinyi,” Sharon supplied.

“Right, Akinyi. I get her mixed up with Mirembe because they both look so…well, like Nat would if she were a Tall Woman.”

She returned his grin. His assessment made a lot of sense. Akinyi and Mirembe were the most intimidating members of the king’s security detail. “Anyway, Stark was stupid, Akinyi reacted. Then what happened?”

“Nat was the first one there. She jumped up and…she kind of body checked Akinyi toward the door. Wait, do you think that’s what…”

“Sounds like it could have been.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. And Dr. Diya said…”

“Natasha is going to be fine.”

“Good.” He continued nodding. “Thanks, Sharon. You…have I told you how much I appreciate you lately?”

“What?”

“I just mean, with Stark here being…himself and everything and… You’ve really come through in every possible way. Thank you.”

She was still trying to collect her thoughts to form an appropriate response when a nurse walked in to tell them that they could see Natasha. Sharon remained in her seat as Steve shot out of the room without another word. She concentrated on her breathing before deciding to head back to the conference. Lunch probably had the potential to turn into an international incident. She didn't have her own super soldier, but she wasn't about to cede her position as world's best mediator.


	13. Chapter 13

Sharon waved to the departing quinjet even though she knew no one inside could see her. Col. Rhodes waved from beside her, having elected to remain in Wakanda to be treated for his spinal injury. Vision had an open invitation to return to spend time working with the university’s cosmological research team if he decided to do so (Wanda had certainly encouraged it.) Parker had been ready to stay longer too, if not for his school and family commitments back home; T’Challa had go so far as to offer him a summer internship. Only Stark was really champing at the bit to head back to New York as fast as the jet would take him.

It was almost enough to make someone who didn’t know him feel bad.

The jet disappeared into a cloudbank and Sharon let out a breath she could have sworn she’d been holding for nearly two weeks. Rhodes appeared slightly regretful about the departure, but not so much so that he didn’t offer her a smile when he spun his wheelchair in a neat circle toward the elevator. “Guess I should settle in, huh?”

“Depends on how long the docs are going to take to get you fixed up.” She tried not to bounce too much with each step, not wanting to make him feel bad in any way that he’d been left behind. “Based on their track record, I wouldn’t get too comfortable. You could be back home in a few weeks, though I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“I’m just happy to be doing something proactive,” he replied with a smile. “Hey, is there anything useful I can do here in the meantime? I hate just sitting around. I know you’re with Wakandan Intel now, so…”

“I’ll ask around.” She made a mental note to speak directly with T’Challa about finding Rhodes some relevant position while he was here. She followed as he wheeled his way into the elevator. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Tony lashes out when he feels threatened.”

“I didn’t say anything yet.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been keeping your cool the whole time we’ve been here when even I was ready to knock his head off.” He scratched his temple lightly as they rode down to the main level. “I’m not saying he’s right, but he feels bad about everything that happened and he’s, uh, not so good at coping with stuff. Plus, he’s kind of a jerk sometimes anyway. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She hadn’t had the opportunity to make the more forceful statement she’d been intending, but there was no need to saddle Rhodes with it when she could drink with Wanda and complain the night away. “You’ve got your security clearance all sorted out, right?”

“Yup, and I know where I’m going, so don’t feel like you have to babysit me, okay?”

“Oh, right.” She stopped in her tracks, not realizing until that moment that she’d been intending to do just that. “Sorry. You know you’re going to moving later today, right?”

“One of the porters took me aside this morning when they picked up Tony’s luggage to tell me I was getting a room in something called ‘Avengers’ Wing.’” He grinned. “That the official name?”

“Just what the staff calls it. I guess this is your official welcome to the Wakandan Avengers, Colonel.”

“Please, it’s just Rhodey. Or James.”

She smiled. “We’ll see you in a bit at home, James.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a warm smile in return.

It was the first time she’d really spoken to him without Stark present and she found that she was looking forward to further conversations. She lost the slight bounce in her step on the way back to her own quarters when she realized she hadn’t mentioned that Col. Rhodes – _James_ – would be staying in Steve’s old room; Steve had already shifted the team’s domestic dynamics by moving into Natasha’s room and Sharon hoped James’ temporary addition would work.

The Bartons were heading back to their house on the grounds and Sharon almost collided with Cooper as he walked out with an overflowing box. He flushed from his hairline to his neck when he stammered an apology. She smiled at the contents of the box he swore was Lila’s – it looked like Legos and board games – and held the door open with what she hoped was a sympathetic nod. He scurried down the hall without a backward glance. It had to be hard to be living in Wakanda with few if any peers. She gave Laura a smile as she left with her own armful of necessities.

Sam grinned as she entered the living room. “Hey, there’s Nat’s own personal Tall Woman.”

“I’m not…”

“You saved her ass in São Paulo, you saved her ass here,” Sam said as Scott held up a finger for each achievement. “You’re officially the Black Widow’s bodyguard.”

Sharon huffed as she sank onto the sofa between her two friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh. Then you didn’t get Natasha to the infirmary when she tackled Akinyi.”

“It’s not like that!” she protested weakly.

“Sure, and Nat’s not alive today because you found her shapely ass and got her evacuated after the Reds attacked.”

Natasha suddenly appeared, as she was apt to do, “Sam, just because Mirembe has been immune to your charms…”

“Not immune,” Sam corrected, “just not, like, susceptible. When I find the right approach…hey, Scott, feel like hitting the gym?”

“Sure,” Scott replied after a long look between Sharon and Natasha.

It was quiet in the living room as Sam and Scott hurriedly left and Natasha got a bottle of water from the refrigerator in the kitchen. Once the space was empty, Natasha sank into a chair beside where Sharon was sitting on the sofa. “Sam’s not wrong, you know.”

“About?”

“The Tall Woman thing. You found me after the Reds’ attack and you made sure I was taken care of while Stark was here. I can’t imagine it’s a comfortable position for you.”

Sharon tried not to remember that Natasha could probably kill her where they sat in the living room of Avengers’ Wing. “It is what it is.”

“Don’t use the Belichick defense. You, Sharon Carter, saved my life on more than one occasion. I owe you.”

“I can’t imagine…”

“Don’t even try,” Natasha interrupted. “There’s probably shit out there just waiting to hit the fan. The Avengers will be there when it does, but…”

“I’m the liaison,” Sharon filled in. She had no illusions about her position with the team. She wasn’t a superhero, just an administrator.

Natasha was looking at her with preternatural focus, though. “Exactly. When the world needs us, they have to talk to _you_.”

“That’s….” Sharon had to swallow hard more than once before she could really accept her position. “You’re saying the Avengers won’t respond without my okay?”

“That’s the agreement until we revamp the Sokovia Accords, yes,”

“And you trust me to…”

“It was unanimous. No one else was nominated when we talked about potential ambassadors, or whatever the UN decides to call you. You’re the one we want representing us to the world.”

“This is…” Sharon was overcome with unexpected emotion. Her previous experience as Avengers’ liaison to the UN had come from emergency circumstances. The thought that the position could be ratified had never crossed her mind. “It’s…”

“Yeah, it’s a lot to think about. Take a few days before you decide.” Natasha’s expression shifted from sincere to detached. “Assuming you’re interested in an UN ambassadorship.”

Sharon’s heart fluttered. “Does diplomatic immunity cover stealing Captain America and Falcon’s gear from the CIA?”

“I think you’re covered, but it’ll probably come up in committee if anyone cares.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Sharon knew she was probably taking on more than she realized, but it was hard to deny the needs of the planet. “When do we start?”

Natasha laughed – actually _laughed_ – before collecting herself. “The UN Security Council wants to know how ready we are for an extraterrestrial attack at the moment.”

Sharon did a quick calculation of the time difference between New York and Wakanda. “When?”

“That’s my Tall Woman.”

Sharon was totally okay with the informal title when she came online with the UN for an update.


	14. Chapter 14

Sharon stepped outside of the UN Security Council Chamber, wondering if she was dreaming. The member nations had just unanimously voted that the Avengers were fully pardoned for the events surrounding the adoption of the Sokovia Accords and were now unilaterally authorized to defend the Earth against both extraterrestrial attack and threats from enhanced human beings, both technological and biological. Any parallel national military action was to be determined at the time, via coordination with a central command structure. It was more than anyone involved with the Avengers had expected but about equal to what would make the majority of the world feel secure in the wake of the Reds’ attack.

She ducked past a gaggle of reporters interviewing Tony Stark and another surrounding Steve and T’Challa, making a beeline for the lounge they’d been assigned on the next floor up. She supposed the result wasn’t so much unexpected as it was unprecedented. The Avengers were now an officially sanctioned supranational force, capable of operating at will to combat threats to the planet. The only unresolved issues for the moment involved the Avengers not currently present – Thor would be advised when he returned from Asgard (and probably agree to the terms) and Dr. Banner would…hopefully not Hulk-out in the near future and avoid UN intervention if he wanted to maintain his current anonymity.

The lounge was surprisingly empty when she opened the door with her passkey; everyone was apparently still downstairs, hugging and giving interviews and God knew what else, although she knew Natasha and Clint were lurking in a corner, trying not to be photographed. As the master spies they were, they could probably sneak off anytime they really wanted, but part of the agreement included a degree of transparency. Sharon had suggested they hang around the cameras as a show of good faith.

She hadn’t actually expected them to do it without a direct order from Steve, but it was apparently a new world.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat in one of the plush chairs, taking a moment to catcher her breath. Things had been moving fast over the past week – the midnight flight from Wakanda to New York, the meetings with various representatives, the resignation of Secretary Ross clearing the way for all-important US agreement once the majority of member states were onboard – and what she really wanted was a solid night of sleep. She suspected, however, that she would need a lot more coffee to sustain her for the next days. Weeks?

She was just getting up for a refill when the Avengers burst into the lounge in various attitudes of glee. Sam, Scott and Wanda had wrapped Vision into an awkward group hug. Clint was busy calling Laura to tell her to pack for the move back home. Sharon watched cautiously as Tony and Steve shook hands just short of warily.  

“Hey.” She flinched as Natasha nudged her with a shoulder. She was smiling at Steve and Tony as their handshake transitioned from guarded to awkward as it went on and on. “So, am I right in saying we’re welcome in every nation or is that just true when we’re saving the world?”

“As it stands, you’re allowed anywhere you want to go.”

“Guess I can’t argue about finding a place in Brooklyn anymore, then. Thanks, Ambassador Carter.”

Sharon let out a long sigh as Natasha walked over to embrace Steve. Screw the coffee. What she really wanted was a beer or five in the East Village bar she’d frequented as an NYU undergrad. Or maybe a few dry martinis at the hotel bar as soon as they escaped the UN.   

It didn’t happen until hours and an interminable formal dinner at Stark Tower later. Sharon had only a glass of wine, but at least she found she actually had a lot to chat about with Pepper Potts, who was inexplicably back with Stark. And who was, perhaps even more bizarrely, friends with Natasha. For some reason, Sharon had never really thought of Natasha as the kind of person with female friends, other than Laura Barton, of course. And Wanda. And herself.

It was the last thought that really drove her to the bar when they finally returned to their hotel in midtown. She was _friends_ with Natasha Romanoff, who she’d been somewhat terrified to address as anything but ‘agent’ a few months ago and who’d run off with her perfect boyfriend. Wow. Sharon barely let the bartender set her drink down before she was taking a long, long sip. It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought, but it was somehow much more unsettling now. Maybe it had something to do with the changes happening around her. They were all going to be leaving Wakanda soon, leaving their shared residence in Avengers’ Wing, leaving their protected bubble.

She could remember feeling something similar leaving summer camp at the end of August when she was thirteen. Funny, she’d been dumped then, too. Stupid Bobby Callahan, her first freaking kiss, making out with Jenny Watson at the dance…

She drained her glass and tapped her fingernails against the bar as she waited for another, which she felt burn all the way to her stomach.

“Whoa, you better slow down, there, Madame Ambassador.”

“Please, James.” She spun carefully on her chair. “Sharon. Just Sharon.” She signaled to the bartender again. “Care to join me for a drink?”

“Sure. Tanqueray and tonic, please.” He smiled as his eyes flicked to the high bartop. She took the hint and moved to a table near the windows, where he rolled over to join her. He had been wearing his StarkTech braces earlier at the UN, but moved back to his wheelchair at dinner; his spinal surgery was still healing and the Wakandan doctors didn’t want him overdoing it. “So, I’m guessing from the fact that you’re sucking down martinis by yourself, this isn’t a celebration, but is it temporary stress relief or…?”

“Or what?” she asked, a little more sharply than intended. “Sorry. I guess I’m just now realizing that I’ve gone from low-profile international semi-fugitive to UN Ambassador from the Avengers in almost no time at all. It’s kind of a lot to take in.”

“Big change,” he replied with a kind smile. “Plus you have to move out of the dorm and be an adult again.”

“Hey, I…” She laughed as she realized he was teasing her. Even though she’d been working for Wakandan Intel, it had been kind of like college, living with friends having no concerns about room and board. “How is it you’ve been living in Avengers’ Wing for less than two weeks and you figured that out faster than I did?”

“Eh, I didn’t have a ton of time to get used to it. Plus, I went to the Air Force Academy, so my college experience was a little different.” He clinked his glass against hers in a toast as the bartender delivered their drinks. “Avengers’ Wing was like some kind of idealized TV scenario where everyone gets along and has unlimited funds and stuff.”

“At least we didn’t have too much drama.”

“Only on episodes guest starring Tony.”

She laughed again and took a small sip of her martini. She could already tell she was going to have to call it a night after this one. “How are you feeling after today?”

“Uh, tingly, mostly. I’ve got some muscle atrophy from the lack of use, so spending a lot of time in the braces takes it out of me. But I’d rather feel something than nothing. The docs in Wakanda say I’m making better progress than even they expected, so I’m not gonna complain.”

“I think you’ve earned the right, if you want.” They both looked out the window at the brightly lit city. “I guess this could feel like home again, given enough time.”

“It’s not a bad place to be. I might be looking into that tactical coordinator position in the new central command.”

“No more War Machine?”

“My days of active avenging are over, but I’d still like to be on the team.”

“Well, the Ambassador is prepared to give you a glowing recommendation,” she said with what she hoped was a coy wink before finishing her drink.

“I think that glow might be the alcohol.” He had somehow already gotten the check and was billing their drinks, including the ones she’d had before his arrival, to his room. “I’d offer to walk you to your door, but…” He rolled back from the table with a cheeky grin.

“I’d love to be escorted,” she replied, standing on legs that were only a little wobbly.

Outside her room, she leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, James.” She fell asleep almost immediately in spite of the rhythmic thumping coming through the wall beyond her headboard. Steve and Natasha were clearly having their own celebration.


	15. Chapter 15

Stark Industries’ Annual Super Glitzy and Fashionable Gala for Collecting a Shit-Ton of Money for Charity (not the official name, in spite of Stark’s demands on internal SI and Avengers’ memos) was happening at the Metropolitan Museum of Art this year. Sharon was finally feeling settled enough in her new job and apartment after eight months to go to a social gathering that included more than her former roommates and didn’t tangentially relate to work. She was kind of looking forward to making her debut in New York society as ‘Madame Ambassador,’ as well.   

She let her phone ring twice before picking it up, trying to pretend she hadn’t been standing by the kitchen island, waiting for the call. “Hello?”

“Hey!” Wanda answered brightly. “I am downstairs with the car.”

“Be right there.” As she was already wearing her shoes and coat, Sharon simply set her alarm and locked her door before flying down the two flights of stairs to the lobby. She had had an uneasy feeling in her stomach since her final dress fitting at the studio of an up-and-coming designer Pepper absolutely loved and wanted to help succeed at every turn. If the examples Sharon had seen when she and Wanda had initially gotten their personalized designs, the guy had nothing to worry about. Her persistent worry had nothing to do with her dress, though. She couldn’t help but associate this experience with the last event she’d attended.

The one where Steve had confessed his love to Natasha right after Sharon’s final dress fitting.

Although she wasn’t currently in a relationship with anyone, she fought the urge to run back upstairs and forced a smile as one of Stark’s drivers opened the back door of the large luxury sedan. Wanda held out a Starbucks cup as the driver closed the door. “Triple tall skim latte, yes?”

“Thank you.” Sharon sipped the coffee as they pulled into crosstown traffic, heading toward Max Dubonnet’s studio on lower Fifth.

Wanda chattered happily about her own new apartment – she had found a small Sokovian neighborhood in Queens, with people who spoke her native language and a market and _three_ authentic restaurants… “You have not heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

“Hm?” Sharon tried to cover her guilty expression behind a sip of coffee. “I’d love to try Sokovian food sometime.”

“Why are you so tense today? Did something happen with Rhodey?”

There was no way to cover up the flush she knew was spreading over her whole face now. She and James had been tiptoeing around the obvious for months now, almost before he had been hired as the tactical coordinator for Central Command. “No, still status quo.”

“Seriously? What are you waiting for?”

“I feel like I’ve got a bad track record with balls.”

“Balls? What are you talking about? Men in general? Or just non-neutered men?”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Just get the damn cat and stop dropping hints.”

“I did stop by the rescue agency the other day…” They spent the rest of the ride discussing the benefits of pet ownership (and which Sokovian neighbor-woman would feed the cat when Wanda had to save the world), but Wanda hadn’t forgotten her earlier question when they arrived at the studio. “So, are you going to dance with Rhodey at the Gala? He is back to full range of motion, as I’m sure you have noticed.”

She nodded. “He played basketball with Steve and Sam yesterday.”

“Ooohh,” Wanda replied with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

They were greeted by one of Max Dubonnet’s assistants the moment they opened the door and swept up in a whirlwind of activity directed by the designer himself. It wasn’t until they were standing on short pedestals in front of angled mirrors, both looking incongruous in their regular hair and makeup as they waited for the final adjustments to be made on their spectacular ball gowns.

The moment the last assistant left the room to grab some extra pins, Wanda spun to let her dark red skirt spread into a cone from her small waist. “I feel so pretty in these dresses. And I have not forgotten our conversation.”

Sharon smoothed her hands down the snug bodice of her own light green gown. “I already told you that you should get a cat if you really want one.”

“Not as many times as I have told you to just ask Rhodey to dinner or something like that. I mean, they are getting married next summer. It is time to just let it go.”

The blush from earlier returned in full force. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your continuing _thing_ for Steve that you think nobody knows about but in fact we just don’t mention because we thought you would get over it with enough time. But you still have not.”

“Wanda, I’m not still thinking about Steve that way and I’m certainly not jealous of Natasha.”

“Did I say something about jealousy?”

Sharon wondered when she’d lost so much of her investigator’s edge that Wanda could pull such an obvious ploy on her. She tried to deflect, saying, “Has Natasha been teaching you interrogation techniques?”

“Why would I need them?”

“Right. You’re a mind reader.”

“No, you are just very obvious. You still want Steve.”

“I _don’t_.”

A familiar voice behind them interrupted, “I believe you.”

Sharon practically fell off her pedestal as she turned to face Natasha. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” she replied with a shrug. She started prowling around the room. “I know you put yourself out there with Steve and he hurt you by being a total dick. And then he kinda got rewarded for it while you had a rebound relationship that didn’t last. That’s a tough pill to swallow.” She ran her hand through her hair and Sharon tried not to think she was subtly displaying her engagement ring as a reminder that Steve was off-limits. “But you can’t be afraid to try again. Besides, I’m pretty sure Rhodey isn’t looking at anyone else.”

“That….” Sharon tried to put together a cogent argument, but Natasha was giving her a smirk. A _damn_ smirk. She turned back toward the mirrors and thought about how amazing she was going to look at the Stark Gala.

The next Saturday night, she was feeling pretty amazing as she stepped out of the back of a white limo to a blinding flash of photographers and a red carpet. She had no idea why anyone thought she merited this kind of attention, but she politely stood on the marks and smiled for the cameras. She was just about to join the crowd making its way through the museum entrance when a roar went up behind them. She turned just in time to see Steve in a tux, holding his hand out to help Natasha from their limo. They posed together, with her tucked under his arm in her stupidly gorgeous blue gown. Sharon sighed and made her way inside. She would have put more thought into her arrival if she’d realized there would be such a media presence.

She nearly ran over Scott by the central information stand in the lobby. He let out a wolf whistle. “Hey, Spook! Been a few weeks, huh?”

“Hi, Scott.” She returned the kiss he planted on her cheek. “Here alone?”

“Nah, I brought Cassie but we bumped into the Bartons and she and Lila are apparently besties now and wouldn’t be separated for even a second, so they both went to the bathroom with Laura.”

Sharon smiled. Scott’s daughter was a cute kid. “Well, I’ll be sure to see you in a few minutes then.” She noticed the beer bottle in his hand. “Where’s the bar?”

“There’s, like, five on this floor, but, protip, the two upstairs don’t have any lines. I sent Clint up there a minute ago.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Yeah, I needed one after the paparazzi crush outside.” He flashed her a bright smile as she walked toward the stairs with a wave.

Clint was leaning against the nearly deserted bar on the mezzanine, talking to Cooper when she walked up. “…but you can’t just come out and say you’re interested. Just casually kind of walk up and, like, ask her if she wants a drink. A soda, obviously. You don’t want to be too accommodating.”

“Da-a-ad,” Cooper whined with a long suffering eyeroll. “She’s the mayor’s daughter. I’m not gonna…”

“Hey, I’m not suggesting you marry her. Just ask for a dance. But be cool. Hey, Sharon.”

“Hi, Clint. Cooper. How’s it going?”

“Dad’s being weird again.”

“Encouraging,” Clint corrected. “At least Stark invited kids and family and everything, so you’re not the only kid here.”

“I’m _not_ a kid!”

Sharon collected her cocktail and left the Barton men (or man and preteen) arguing. The second floor of the museum was completely open but much quieter than it usually was. She was alone as sipped her drink and she walked through endless galleries of Asian art. At some point, she started to hear music. She casually followed the sound, glancing at the exhibits as she went. She eventually found the source as she looked down from above on the Temple of Dendur. There was a live orchestra set up in the corner and dancing in the plaza in front of the temple. As she looked down at the crowd, she picked out Stark toasting with Pepper near (another) bar by the wall of windows. She thought she spotted Sam dancing with a pretty brunette, but she wasn’t sure it was him from this angle.

She was trying to identify more familiar faces when someone cleared his throat behind her. “Hello, Sharon.”

“James. Hi. I was just…” She waved her half-empty glass in a general way.

“Yeah, I’m not too big on the posh crowds either, but this is actually better than the adults-only galas Stark usually throws. I think I saw a museum guard stopping a kid from drawing a moustache on a Rembrandt or something with a Sharpie a few minutes ago.” She laughed, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t let the silence last. “Would you like to dance?”

She glanced around the small space. “Here?”

“I wasn’t a great dancer even before I was paralyzed, so I don’t think that’s changed now that I can walk again. Up here we can hear the music but I won’t embarrass myself.” He held out his hand. “Please don’t make me beg.”

“Never.” She stepped into him and they swayed with the music. It was nothing special, but at the same time… “James, would you like to have dinner with me sometime? Not Avengers-related, but…just dinner.”

“I would love to.”

Later that night when she saw Steve kissing Natasha, the old pang that used to shoot through her chest wasn’t there. She wondered if it had something to do with the kiss she’d shared with James earlier in the night. It didn’t really matter, she supposed. She was sure there was a happily ever after out there for her.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This got super-Sharon-y at the end. It also went on much longer than I originally intended, but I felt bad leaving her hanging with happy Romanogers out there for all to admire. Hope it didn't disappoint!


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